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 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U.SA 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924052126962 
 
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 REVISED EDITION 
 
 BY 
 
 DR. SAMUEL A. BINION 
 
 Author of "Ancient Egypt," Etc., and Translator of "Quo Vadis,' 
 "Pan Michael," Etc., Etc. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 M. De LIPMAN 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 HENRY ALTEMUS 
 

 -i^ f/aj^ 
 
 \^v 
 
 ^ji'-O 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 IN UNIFORM STYLE. 
 Illustrated. 
 
 Quo Vadis ; A Tale of 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 Altemus. 
 
INTRODUGTION. 
 
 Above the Marienkirche, in Cracow, rises two towers of unequal 
 height, 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 
 music suddenly breaks out overhead, sad, silvery ; 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 
 there 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 oflF 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 cold shrines of stone, in the vaults of the fortress ; 
 
INTBODUCTION. 
 
 and every morning and evening they hear the clarion dirge of the 
 nation suddenly broken off. And the rest is silence. 
 
 In his great epic of Poland, Sienkiewicz 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 roU 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 
 Romanoffs; 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, Vishnyovyetskis, 
 were the lesser nobles, withstanding them in their turn, as the mag- 
 nates withstood the king. Then, beneath all, the people, dumb serfs, 
 down trodden, with no voice in their destinies, and not even the name 
 of freedom. A kingdom divided against itself and fated to fall. 
 The vaulting ambition of the nobles caused their ruin and the ruin 
 of their country. Foes from without had been powerless in face of 
 a united land. 
 
 GHARLEB JOHNSTON. 
 
BOOK 1. 
 
COMMONWEALTH 
 KINGDOM °" POLAND 
 
 AT ITS GREATEST EXTENT 
 
 , ■ TKflNSVILVaiMl® V 
 
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 afterward 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 
 like 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 changed, every one 
 in Eussia, 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 WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 For sueli 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 two 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 armed, guarded his flocks, the kriight- 
 errant sought adventures, robbers 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 wilderness 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 
 
 1 The name for Cossack lowlands. 
 2 Chambul — a diTision of Tartar horseman. 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. - 
 
 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 Eiver Omelnik, to its mouth, th6 sharpest eye could not 
 have detected a living being, nor the sHghtest 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 
 Eiver Omelnik, that from its far distant source wound along 
 to empty its waters into t;he 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. 
 
 Night 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 caniiles 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 
 
g WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 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! 
 Help! 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 sprung 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 horsemen gathered on the height; one of them dis- 
 mounted, and looked closely at some object on the ground. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 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 Lands 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?" 
 
 "He lives. Commander,^ but the death-rattle is in his 
 throat; a noose strangled him." 
 
 "What is he?" 
 
 "Not 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. 
 "Unbuckle his belt!" 
 
 "Do we camp here to-night?" 
 
 "Yes. Unsaddle the horses, and light the camp fire." 
 
 The soldiers set briskly to work. Some of them began to 
 rub the prostrate man to bring him back to life; others gath- 
 
 1 NamiestDik. 
 
lO WITH FIRE AXD 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 japproaehed him. 
 
 "In the hands of those who rescued you."' 
 
 "So you caught me with a lasso?" 
 
 ""WTiat 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 SWOBD. 1 1 
 
 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 
 rhe 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, displeased 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 friends, 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 offset 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 SWORD. 
 
 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." 
 
 "I 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. I 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." 
 
 "You 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 Lands 
 where less attention was jaid 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. 
 
 "Here'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?" 
 
 "No, indeed, Colonel, I was with the Khan himself." 
 
 Abdank's curiosi^ty was aroused. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. j, 
 
 "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 curl- 
 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 Bound 
 
J 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 Clommander'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 
 horses' heads could be distinguished, with dilated nostrils, 
 snorting 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 you," 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 Cliigrin across the steppes 
 instead of by water? The fact that he woiild 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 FIBE AND SWORD. jc 
 
 Moreover the young Coimnander was astonished at Ab- 
 dank's personality. He remarked at once that the Cossacks,' 
 who were usually on fanjiliar 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, Vhich 
 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 such will-power ex- 
 pressed in his features. But what was inborn in the Prince 
 by virtue of his high lineage and his position, might 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 baud 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 Land. 
 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 
 
1 6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 if the gray beard who is tottering to the grave does not 
 even kno'vv 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 Jay 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 bondage, 
 From out the Moslem's bondage dread. 
 Into the bright morning. 
 By still waters 
 Into the joyful Land ! 
 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, Pan Zats- 
 vilikhovsld, 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. He 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 and 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 Wallachian, 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 
 
1 8 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 was the most important event that had 
 happened in town. Skshetuski took his place in a corner 
 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; "Jly friend — we have long known each 
 other. AVe 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 Khm}-- 
 elnitsld, 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 Oherkass 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. iq 
 
 man, he kept them to himself, and said nothing about them. 
 Khmyelnitski 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." 
 
 Zatsvilikhovski put both hands to his head. 
 
 "In God'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." 
 
 "Were there many with him?" 
 
 "About forty, but they came too late. If my men had 
 not been on the sppt, the starosta's people would have 
 strangled him." 
 
 "Stop, this is a serious matter. The servants of the star- 
 osta did you say?" 
 
 "So he informed me." 
 
 "How 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 WITH FIRE ASD 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. 
 
 ''Kegards, gentlemen," he repeated, more loudly and with 
 greater emphasis, as no one answered him. 
 
 "Eegards! Eegards!" was echoed by several voices. 
 
 It was Pan Chaplinski, vice-starosta of Ohigrin, the trusted 
 servant of the young standard-bearer KonyetspolsM. 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. 
 
 Zats-silikhovski 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 ZatsvilikhovsM: "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. Xow 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. 
 
 ZatsvilikhovsM 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 BZhvedka. Well Khvedka is in his ser- 
 vice, but he is in mine also. He will turn Judas to Khniyel- 
 ntiski, the^e is much to tell. Khvedka has become intimate 
 with Khmyelnitski 's men. He is a shrewd fellow. He knows 
 every move and has imdertaken 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 viee-starosta from the 
 first moment that he saw him. 
 
WITB 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 your 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 Hetman's letter! I 
 will— 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 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "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 one 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 wiU 
 hurt." 
 
 AMien 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." 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 23 
 
 Only a small part of the partisans of the vice-starosta were 
 silent, and as they had not courage to take 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, the 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 Eadom." 
 
 "A robber's bullet, as sure as I live. The Eadom 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 Galatz. If I lie, I am an arch-dog, and no noble- 
 man." 
 
 "Yes, and a dog that can bark." 
 
 "If I am a rogue, I will be an open one. My regards to 
 you. Commander." 
 
 Meantime, oi;hers 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 Ehmyelnitski, 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 Eussian lands. They, therefore, 
 sided with the one most popular, little dreaming of the ter- 
 rible results that would follow. It was not uatil later that 
 
24 
 
 WITE 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?. Quatuor articuli judicii cas- 
 trensis: stuprum, incendium, latrocinium. et vis armata alienis 
 aedibus illata. Was not that vis armata?" 
 
 "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 good 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. 
 
 "It's all the same, irom Psikishki." (Dog's entrails.) 
 
 "From llyshikishki," 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." 
 
 "Pie 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 Tvere 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 leader!" 
 
26 WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 "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 I'll 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 oif 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, "but the 
 commissary Pan Zatsvilikovski 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 kno\\s 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. As 
 they crossed the threshold, Barabash asked: 
 
 "Is there any news of Khmyelnitski?" 
 
 "He has fled to Sieh. This officer 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!" 
 
 "What do you fear?" 
 
 "Do 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 WITH 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 iiulUus" 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 meti, 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 SWORD. 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 
 Maslov 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 Eussian 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 the 
 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 the 
 documents, half of my Circassians followed him this night. 
 My hour is past — ^the grave awaits me, not the field-marshal's 
 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 iniorm him how matters stand, and will beg him, 
 
30 
 
 WITH FIRE AXD 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 difEerence. And 
 you. Colonel of the Circassians, send couriers to inform Prince 
 Dominik, and the Boyal 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 ^\'arsaw expect to hold the Cossacks in cheek. 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. ,l 
 
 "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 
 corner crowds of herders howled thoir 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 "IT-ha! — U-ha!" still 
 echoed in his ears as he lay down to sleep in his quarters. 
 
CHAPTEE 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 Euda, 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, animals, 
 of all descriptions found a convenient hiding-place. In the 
 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 Literally the " beai-ded Turs " (Aurochs.) 
 32 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ,, 
 
 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, h£.lf-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 WITH FIRE A?i^D SWORD. 
 
 But real activit}' only flourislied under the iron rule of young 
 Prince Yeremy. His territory began immediately outside- 
 Chigrin and extended far away to the confines of Konotop and 
 Eomni. These were not all his princely possessions, but, 
 starting from the province of San DomirsM his territory ex- 
 tended to the provinces of A'olhynia, Eussia, and Kiev; but 
 his domain beyond the Dnieper was the eye in the head of 
 the victor of Putyvla. 
 
 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, were 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. Eoads were made on the traces of the old 
 highways; rivers were dammed by Tartar slaves, or by the 
 Nijovs who had been captured with weapons in their hands in 
 acts of violence. A\Tiere 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 tlie 
 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- 
 laehian embassy which the Hospodar had sent to Lubni in 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. ,5 
 
 the i^erson 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 servants. 
 
 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." 
 
 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 'WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 At the same time lie was alwaj's 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 ilichael 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 
 belicTe 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." 
 
 Savins, 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." 
 
 Skshetusld began: "We flee to thee for refuge. Holy 
 Mother of God," — "\ATiere is there anything about the Wal- 
 lachians? A^Tiat are you talking about? This is an anti- 
 phone." 
 
 "Eead 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: "l\Tiy 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. ,7 
 
 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?" 
 
 "It 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 I 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, vStoveiko 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 be- 
 queathed 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 
 ilost 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?" 
 
 "A^Tiy, 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, hut 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. 
 
 "T 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 mVORD. ,q 
 
 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! He 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 down 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. All at once, 
 instead of swooping down upon the cranes, he darted ofl! 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 Longin 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 two Cossack boys; no coach- 
 man was in sight. He had evidently ridden off to look for 
 
40 WITR FIRE ASD 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 young 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 
 hoofs 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 maiten-cap two eyes looked 
 out — eyes beside which even those of Anusia Borzoibohata 
 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. The blushing cheeks bloomed like 
 the fairest flower; and between the rosy, half-open lips peeped 
 teeth like pearls, while froon 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 
 
 ^ A Bussian mile is equivalent to nearly fiv« American miles. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 41 
 
 axle of our carriage is broken, and there is nothing for us 
 but to stay all night on 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 
 Lubni; 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 east her eyes 
 down to the ground. The 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 Eozloga-Siromakhi. I 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 AXD SWOSD. 
 
 "No," said the princess sharjily, and even angrily. "I am 
 the widow of Constantino, 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 Yasil 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 she dared not answer him. 
 She turned instead to her neiee 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 p ;rmission 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. ., 
 
 small, and for such a trifle it does not beoome 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." 
 
 "I 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 tenderly: 
 
 "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 I 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 
 
 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 His Excellency, Pan Eozvan-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 elis- 
 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 Xikolay — 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. 
 
WITE 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 Eosloga, 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 Eosloga 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; 
 "but 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 ..XD SWORD. 
 
 The contemptuous manner in which the old princess spoke 
 of her niece was so evident that 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 
 comfort 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 was 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. 
 
 "If 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. ,» 
 
 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 
 m Crimea; but in Eozloga. Eemember 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 Eohun 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. 
 
 "What 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 Colonels 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 was, no one knew. 
 One thing was certain, — the steppes were his cradle; and the 
 Dnieper, the Perogen and the Chertomelik 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 association 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 tlir> 
 Tartar herds of cattle and horses, setting traps, fighting, ex- 
 peditions among the nomadic tribes on the coast; expeditions 
 
48 
 
 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 to Byalogrod, Wallachia, or else by boat to the Black Sea. 
 He knew 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 c-.t the oars 
 of Turkish galleys. He always came back safe and with rich 
 booty. It was said, that he had enormous treasure? 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 disdaii). 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 would 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 eou^rtly knight, with the Cossacks, the wildest 
 of Cossacks, among knights, a knight, among robbors. 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 own 
 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. .„ 
 
 hood and so songs chose him for their darling and his name 
 was iamous throughout the Ulcraine. 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 Rozloga. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 The family of Kurtsevich-Bulyhov was of an old princely 
 stock which bore the eoat-of-arms of Kurch; it claimed to 
 come from Koryat, but it was said that it really originated in 
 Euryk. 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 
 coim.try 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 Eed (Krasne)- 
 Eozloga, which later on account of the enormous number of 
 wolves who congregated there, was called Wolf's-Eozloga, and 
 here he settled permanently. In the year 1639 he entered the 
 Eomish church, and married Panna Eahozia, the daughter of 
 a noble house that took its origin in Wallachia. From this 
 union 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 Eozloga 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- 
 fortime 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 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWOBD. -j 
 
 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 Eozloga in the care of Constantine — 
 then he completely vanished. Eeports 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 Eozloga 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 Eozloga 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 Eozloga 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 AXD 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 Eoz- 
 loga. She had planted herself in Eozloga 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 b}', 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 Eozloga 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 Eozloga. 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 SWORD. ^j 
 
 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 Eozloga Siromakh in order to guess what kind 
 of people occupied it. As the ambassador and Skshetuski 
 passed through th^ gates they did not see 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 \^'as 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 huge 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 AWD 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. Eozvan-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 of 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, biit 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 filled 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 
 upon 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 tp talk 
 to ycu; 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." 
 
r6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 '■^Vhy 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 heutenant, a man of standing, for he was sent hy 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 Eozloga, 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 wiU calm myself, but do not let my black-eyed girl talk to 
 him." 
 
 "Whafs 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 ia 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 zoom where the young 
 princes, not knowing how to entertain their guests, were con- 
 tinually biddinff them welcome and bending low before them. 
 As they approached Skshetuski looked sternly and proudly 
 into Bohun's eyes, but he found 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 SWORD. . ^7 
 
 that hung 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 black 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. Bohun 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: 
 
 "You've 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: 
 
 "I see that the expeditions against the Nijovs that have 
 covered you with fame, still do not satisfy you." 
 
58 • WITH FIRE AXD 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 andVasil, the eldest Kurt- 
 sevieh 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- 
 feriQg 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, 
 "he 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 his 
 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 nlinutes with a lute in her hand. Soft tones 
 filled the air and to the sound of the lute, the maiden sang 
 a hymn. 
 
 To tliee, O, Lord, ia heaven's height, 
 I raise my prayer by day and dight, 
 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. ^cj 
 
 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 or 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: 
 
 " Guide, O, Gracious God, my Path ! 
 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 ofE 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. knight, comparing my voice to that of 
 the angels," answered Helena. 
 
 "I do not know if it is a sin, but I knov^ 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 
 
6o WITH FIRE AXD 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." 
 
 "What 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 diteetion. 
 
 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 fortli heat; he saw her 
 breast heaving like waves 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 oould 
 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 Longin, 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 . gj 
 
 All of them except Bohuii 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 gnests, 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 vou, 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 princess 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 AXD SWORD. 
 
 "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 I 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. 63 
 
 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 I 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 yourj. 
 Highness wishes to write to her you can say to-morrow." ^g 
 
 "If that's so, it's another matter, you are, I see a faithfi^^ 
 servant to the young lady. There's a third dollar for j^qq^^ 
 How long have you been in her service?" ^^ ^f 
 
 "Alas, it is fourteen years since Count Vasil -tookj^ -^^ 
 prisoner. From that time I have served him faithfulb 
 when he went away into banishment he left his chil 
 Constantino, but he said to me, 'Chekhly you will no^ in^gn- 
 my girl, will you, but will take care of her as the 
 your head.' La Allah ilia Allah!" 
 
 "And you have done so?" 
 
 "I have done it and will continue to do it." - .,j.^ 
 
 "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 grive her to Bohun, but he may take and carry 
 her away as tlie wolf does the lamb and leave them in pos- 
 session of Eoz!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 vnth 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 WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 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 
 
 beeaiase Eozloga was a gift from the Vishnyovyetski to the 
 
 '-'lid Vasil and secondly because Vasil himself had written 
 
 P- -om Bar to the Prince begging him to be her guardian. 
 
 '■Jy the urgency of public business, of war, and great under- 
 
 - ngs had prevented the voyevoda from interesting himself 
 
 ® I'le guardianship. But, it would be sufficient to remind 
 
 -Lhiijy n word, in order that justice might be done. Dawn 
 
 He wajpga^^y gj.a,y when Pan Skshetuski threw himself upon 
 
 that wa ]jg gjgp(. soundly and awoke in the morning with a 
 
 ^^^^T^ "^solve. They dressed themselves quickly, he and 
 
 . for the carriage was already waiting for them, and 
 
 ^ <fw° '^'^i's soldiers were already mounted and ready for 
 
 T>ii! ^ B^'h. In the reception room the ambassador in com- 
 
 jjt!-.i/ 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 mouiit 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 hex 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 stern look upon her and 
 said: 
 
 "Pardon me, gracious lady, and you, young princes, that, 
 contrary to custom and good manners, I have undertaken 
 
wim PiRE Ann sword. 
 
 65 
 
 to put this matter before you instead of intrusting it to a 
 confidential messenger, but it cannot 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 Eozloga it would not 
 have produced such an effect upon the princess and her sons 
 as these words of the lieutenant. For a time, they looked 
 in astonishment at the speaker who stood before them, erect 
 as a statue, ca!lm and proud, as if he had no intention of 
 begging, but rather of eommanrding; but they could find no 
 words to reply. Instead the princess began to ask 
 
 "What! she— Helena?" 
 
 "Yes, 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 I've 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. 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, 
 
 "You 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 W!fB flRS AND mORD. 
 
 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 sword, another a spear, or knife, surrounded the lieu- 
 tenant in a semicircle 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 aUve? How 
 do you know this is not your last hour?" 
 
 Skshetuski 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 daj's 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. 
 Breathing 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 off 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; I 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- 
 
6S WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 served. We will send Bohun to Pereyaslav and we ourselves 
 will drive to Lubni with Helena. You will entreat the prince 
 to send a guard to Eozloga. 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 suddenly, turn- 
 ing to the young princes, "here are four of you, like oaks, 
 and you fear one C'ossack 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 tryinj; to sell her in exchange for Eozloga, 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 AMD SWORD. 69 
 
 "Young 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! 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- 
 mediately — 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!" 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 Skshetuski did not find the prince at home when he 
 reached Luhni. He had gone to attend a christening at the 
 house of one of his old retainers. Pan SufEchynski at Sieneh, 
 and with him went the princess, the tw© princesses Zbaraska, 
 and many people of the Court. Word was sent to Sieneh of 
 the return of the lieutenant from the Crimea, and also of the 
 arrival of the ambassador. 
 
 ileantime 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- 
 ovski. 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 coiild not flatter himself with the smallcl^t hope, 
 especially as several suitors had pretended to tb.o 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. If 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- 
 roiinded with friendly faces and the noises of military life 
 which w;is his favoritp music. Xow Lubni, although the 
 fortified residence of the prince might be compared favor- 
 70 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. -j 
 
 ably as regards magnificence with any of the courts of the 
 petty kings. It was different from tlie 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 ol revels 
 and enjoyment. Everywhere perfect order reigned, and le- 
 markable discipline; everywhere 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 Eussia, 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 good, 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 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 tuski wonderful stories about it. Volodiyovski confirmed 
 everjtiimg he 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, wLere 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 Ihe 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 teri-or 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. Tlie lieutenant introduced 
 Longin Podbipycnta to his friends; his kindly disposition 
 won all liearts, 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. 
 
WITB Ft RE 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 oecured 
 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 Malchus, 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 
 SufEehynski 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 ir/rw FiJiE AyD sword. 
 
 tioned in Liibni took part in the funeral procession. From 
 the ramparts salutes were fired from cannon and smaller 
 arms: the cavalry marched from the castle to the parish 
 church of the town, in order of battle, 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 cof&n 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 word?: "AVhither 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 generosity, 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 reliels, he was terrible and 
 pitiless, but was a true benefactor not only to the nobility 
 but to all his people. In '46, when the locusts 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 viee-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 AXD SWORD. -c 
 
 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 
 eonvenarumque plehs 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. He was still young, only in his 
 thirty-sixth year, but his face bore traces of the hardships 
 of war, for although in Lubni he lived as a veritable king; 
 during his numerous military expeditions, he partook of the 
 hardships of the simplest companion, 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 gpve 
 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 8cc that this man under- 
 stood his power and his greatness and if to-morrow a crown 
 should be set on his bead, 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. 
 
^6 ir/rff FIRE AXD 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, ^'asil 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 Flue Hall, so called, because on the ceiling was 
 the firmament set with stars, painted by the brush of the 
 Dantzig artist, Flelm. 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 ilukhovietski, the Secre- 
 tary, the marshal. Count Voronich, Pan Logiislav, 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 Eozvan 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. 77 
 
 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 Khan'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 Eozvan 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 
 Grizelda. 
 
 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 y 011 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 afPection 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 phcEnix and therefore, I shall 
 . certainly die for sorrow." 
 
 "You will live and soon fall in love again, but not with 
 Princess Barbara, for the son of some other Voyevoda will 
 carry her ofE 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." 
 
 "Devil, you have a covering," cried Skshetuski, "I see that 
 
78 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 dal'ling of the 
 whole court asked herself, and stamping her little foot upon 
 the ground she determined 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 ovit 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 I had! Good morning, sir!" 
 
 "Good day, Panna Anna! Have I done something mon- 
 strous to frighten Panna Anna?" 
 
 The girl stood there 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 I 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?" 
 
 "I, as if Panna Anna cared for my anger!" 
 
 "Why no, in truth, not. Why shoitld I care! Or do you 
 think perhaps I am going to cry? Pan Bikhovyets is more 
 polite." 
 
WITH FIRE AND HWUKD. jg 
 
 "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 Podbipyenta 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-slxearing 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 heutenant, however, 
 would have paid no attention if Volodiyovski 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." 
 
 Volodiyovski stepped up to the Lithuanian: 
 
8o WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "You have not been here long," said he, "but I see that 
 you are a lady-killer." 
 
 "What is it? Uttle 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." 
 
 Yolodiyovski turned away and went off, li!aving Longin to 
 his astonishment. He did not dare to look over in the direc- 
 tion where Anusia was. It was not fcr 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! thought the Lithuanian and fled, blushing like a 
 school-boy, to the other end of the room. 
 
 But the temptation was too great. The little min.x 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 wari?" 
 
 "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 
 aboiit this matter?" 
 
 "Xot a word. The king will never, imtil he dies, give up 
 the idea of this war; but the Commonwealth does not wish it." 
 
 ".\nd in C'higrin they sav a Cossack rebellion is threat- 
 ened." 
 
 "It is easy to see that your vow bothers you a rood deal. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 3j 
 
 As far as the rebellion is concerned, you may as well know- 
 that it will not take place till spring. Even il 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 I 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 Eozvan-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 Eussia 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 JSTale- 
 
82 WITH 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 
 steppos 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, anion? uncultivated, wild people, whose feelings 
 \\-ere 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 
 oblige them to give him the girl. Such cases were not rare. 
 
 Years before, Loboda, the comrade of the unfortunate 
 Xalevayka 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 thouo-ht Skshetuski — they will inform 
 me contemptviously 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 
 
WITH miiB AND SWORD. 81 
 
 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 by 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 Chigrin 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, 
 who was a great master of the art; or threw javelins at a 
 mark. An event took place in Lubni by which the lieutenant 
 nearly lost his life. One day a bear broke loose from his 
 chain, wounded two of the stablemen of the court, frightened 
 the Commissioner Ivhlebovski'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 
 
 1 A four-footel rogue. 
 
84 WITB FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 proof of extraordinary strength astonished the prince who 
 was looking out of a \\indow. He conducted Pan Longin to 
 the room of the princess where Anna Borzobahata fascinated 
 him so with her little 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 i.nd 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 be satisfied, or it would break his heart like a 
 fragile \essel. His joy therefore could easily be imagined 
 when one day, Jendzian stepped into his quarters, covered 
 with mud, weary and bedraggled, but ..'ith 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 i""" 
 
 "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 
 \\-as not certain that Helena could write. Women in the bor- 
 der lands were not learned, and Helena, besides, had grown 
 up among imeducated 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, I 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 viTite 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. 
 
 85 
 
 Here the lieutenant interrupted his reading and asked 
 Jendzian: 
 
 "What 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 ^ith her aunt as soon as the roads became passable 
 and that Ihe 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." 
 
 N"ow 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 heutenant 
 when he promised anything, was sure always to keep his 
 
86 WITH 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 good 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 ^hat 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 wit^e to ask the young lady or the old 
 Princess anything about him, but I made friends with old 
 C'hekhly. lie is a heathen, but yet a faithful servant of the 
 yonng lady. He 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 Bohun'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, thev 
 said to Bohun: "Lend us some money!' He answered how- 
 ever, 'Turkish property' I have a certain amount of, but treas- 
 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." 
 
 "I have nothing to say, biit that you made all the inquiries 
 I wanted."' 
 
 "Jly lord, if I had inquired after one thing and not after 
 another, you would have said to me with justice; 'The h'^rsc 
 thou mayst have, but the saddle I shall keep back!' What 
 would niv 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. When 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. ." 
 
wim PiRn AND swotin. g- 
 
 "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 Eussian bank of the Dnieper^, so I 
 think if that is the ease, 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 Eozloga 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 side of the Dnieper is called Eussian ; and the left, Tartar. 
 
CHAPTEE TI. 
 
 Over the whole Ukraine and the country beyond the 
 Dneiper, mutterings were heard as of an approaching 
 tempest. Strange reports and tidings flew from village to 
 village, from farm to farm, like those plants which the wind 
 in Autumn carries across the steppes and which the peawnts 
 call perekotypol. In the towns there were rumou 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 stinging. 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 pf 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 ominous. Sich, which was 
 enclosed in narrow boundaries could not support all its inha- 
 88 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. go 
 
 bitants; warlike expeditions did not always take place and in 
 their alDsence 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 wore in the Ukraine. Yes, even in the whole of Russia, 
 Some of them Joined the following of the Starosta, others 
 dispensed vodka in the street; others occupied the'mselves in 
 the villages and small towns with commerce and professions. 
 In almost every village, therft 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-bleachers, 
 fishermen, and sportmen than they. The Cossack 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 fiash, 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 
 
go 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 Enssia. 
 
 So there really was something on foot, although the Xijovs 
 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 someithing 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 Sich was growing daily. 
 
 The Prince therefore sent out messengers; to Pan Krak- 
 ovski; to Pan Kalinovski; to Loboda in Pereyaslav; 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 Khjonelnitski 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 thei'e the Koshov commander has gatliered 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 storm 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 Bikhovye^s, 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 talce 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 responsibility of the embassy de- 
 pends on your adroitness; you must observe everything that 
 is going on there; how many men they have called to arms 
 and how many they are still calling. One thing I specially 
 command you, to obtain the confidence of some 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 
 letters 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. Look, 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 will 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 Skshetnski with some artillery officers. 
 
 "What's up?" they asked him. 
 
 "I am going away to-day." 
 
92 
 
 WITH FIRE AND !i^yORD. 
 
 "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 tlie 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." 
 
 "Sly 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. 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. g^ 
 
 "I see that I must tell the truth," he began, "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 sup2>ose 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 oiScer 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 heard 
 witli 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 WITH FIBE 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 
 3'our 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. Skshetusld would have had, 
 therefore, to wait in Lubni or in Eozloga, which latter was 
 contrary to his agreement ^vith 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 Eozloga, Skshetuski judged it best to leave Eozloga, 
 and on his return, to take her away under the protection of 
 the princc"s soldiers. The lieutenant had weighed all these 
 things and this hastened 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 £fll 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. 
 Look there! a herd of horses of the steppes; see how they 
 heat back the grass witli 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 Heutenant's 
 train moved slowly forward; for they could not hurry, as the 
 
 95 
 
96 ^ITB PIRE AiVD HWOttD. 
 
 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 Roz- 
 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 s'tepped 
 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 liUbni." 
 
 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 I 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." 
 
''1 thank his Highness, as my gracious Lord. Does he think 
 of sending us away soon from llozloga?" 
 
 "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 Eozloga; 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 bounding 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, I saw you there plainly as if you were standing be- 
 fore me, but when I stretched out my hand, you disappeared. 
 
q8 WITB PlkB A\'b SWORD. 
 
 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 were 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. on 
 
 "Well, 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 
 I live, I will remain in her service; the one God kflows it." 
 
 "In a month's time, when I 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 you've 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 Kozloga 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 WITH FIRE AyO 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 answer and called neither more or less than twelve times. 
 
 Skshetuski was beside hiinself 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 asked 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. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 In Chigrin, Skshetuski found old Zatsvilikhovski in a state 
 of the greatest feverish excitement. He was awaiting im- 
 patiently the prince's messenger; for theatening news was 
 coming daily from Sieh. 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 which he expected to arrive any day in Sieh. 
 Consequently a general expedition was expected to set out 
 from Sieh 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 Hetman, 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 Sieh. The nobility collected in the towns. It was said 
 that in the southern principalities, the militia would be mus- 
 tered.. Many, without waiting 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 Sieh; 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. The 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 
 
102 WITE FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 But, althoiagh 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 Khyniel- 
 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. AVas 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 Barabash. 
 
 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." 
 
 "I 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?" 
 
 "Yes, from the prince himself." 
 
 "T\'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 seen 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 Eussians, 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-knoT^-n figures going directly towards the 
 alley where the Wallachian Dopula 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 Stambul in the same 
 manner. And what is Pan Podbipyenta, Povsinoga of the 
 coat-of-arms 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 pim Am awo&n. 1^5 
 
 "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. I 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 Neehay 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. I 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 "ifiVB PiiiS ASD siroiw. 
 
 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 ladjr's name was whom 
 Bohun wishes to marry." 
 
 "Good sir, what do 1 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 I 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. 
 "Get 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 of&cers 
 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 ease of 
 war." 
 
WITB FlaE AND SWOLD. 
 
 107 
 
 "And If I, the martyr of the Turks, have no wish to be- 
 come a martyr of the Cossacks, 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 sour Polish soup. 
 
lo8 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 unites with the Tartars, and, together with them, will mur- 
 der the Christians. ..." 
 
 "Let us drink to these sorrows," interrupted Zagloha, "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?" Eussians! And who those in 
 the army of Prince Yeremy? And those in the service of the 
 lords? Eussians! And how mapy 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 Eoman 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. "Be on your guard!" 
 
 "I 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 valeque" 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. Brr! 
 how cold it is!" 
 
WITH PIRE AND SWORD. jog 
 
 "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, Skshetusld 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, into a wild region; 
 into the dark future. 
 
 The boat f (ftlowed the course of ihe 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'erspread. . . " 
 
 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. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 The following morning Skshetuski 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. Jend^n was fairly 
 frightened when he awoke, and rubbed his eyes to see more 
 clearly. He looked about him in astonishment and, as he 
 could see no sign of the shore, he cried: 
 
 "Great God! 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 
 Sich 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 saihng craft; when even the Porog be- 
 yond Nyenashyts was navigable for boats sailing with the 
 stream. 
 
 ' Boats, 
 no 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. u, 
 
 The lieutenant observed with ciiriosity this hfe 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 diet, or were undertaking a bird-war. 
 
 Behind Kremenchuk the banks grew lower and more open. 
 
 "Look there!" cried Jendzian, suddenly, "there is the sun 
 and there lies snow on the fields." 
 
 Skshetuski iooked 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 went 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 wild- 
 boar, 
 
112 WITB 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 foamiag waves 
 upon the rocks by the shore, and filled the dajk rocky clefts 
 with water. In such hollows and crevices the Cossacks used 
 to hide their treasures and conceal themselves. The mouths 
 of the rivers, wliich 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 lieiitenant 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- 
 eyaslav 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, 
 lighted in the steppes. The fishermen knew that an ex- 
 pedition against the Poles was being arranged, and made no 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. u, 
 
 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 Kog, 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. Every 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, Eussia, the 
 Crimea, and from Wallachia. Each one belonged to a differ- 
 ent faith, but that made no difference to anyone. 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 ^vilderness, and saw 
 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 continuallj' 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. ^Mien there was scarcity of food in Sich he 
 supplied the inhabitants with grain. He was a Eussian 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 isjands. 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: 
 
 "I will not defend mvself. . ," 
 
WITB PIUE AND SWORD. 1,5 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I have no powder. I sent more than twenty canoes with 
 requests for some, but I have received none. I do 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 leam 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 continue 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 Eussian. "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; 
 
Ii6 WITH FIRE AND 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 will have 
 double rudders brought, for single oars are not enough on the 
 Porog." 
 
 Then Grodzitski led the lieutenant out of the roorf in 
 order to show him the 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 iinceasingly 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 flew 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 SWORD. jj- 
 
 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 Kiver 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 young and in love, and he wanted to 
 live beside his loved one; but honor and fame were more to 
 him than life. Then he realized that war was at hand, that 
 Helena, who was expecting him in Eozloga, was surrounded 
 by terrible 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 
 Eozloga to Lubni. 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 Sich was so dangerous. He paced up and down 
 the room with quick steps, tugged at his beard and rung his 
 hands. AVhat should he do, how manage! In his mind's 
 eye, he saw Eozloga in flames surrounded by a black howling 
 mob more like devils than human beings. He heard the 
 echo of his own steps which resoimded through the vaults of 
 the castle; but to him it seemed as if he heard evil powers 
 who were surroimding Helena. Upon the ramparts, the 
 bugle sounded for curfew, and it seemed to him like 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 it 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 master's attention. 
 
 But the lieutenant was completely lost in his painful 
 
Ii8 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 cuiming. 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 Jind 1 the servant. I will not leave 
 you on that account, for I am not a peasant of no family, 
 but a noble; and even if I 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 Eozloga, 
 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 important 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 I can trust? Are you mad? 
 I repeat, if you were to save my life twice over, you could not 
 
WttB PlitE Alfb 8W6kr>. tjA 
 
 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! T see I must go, although it makes me so 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 Eozloga. 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!" replied the lieutenant, and 
 lifted him up. "But at Eozloga 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. 
 
CHAPTEE 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 
 Snrsk-Porog and passed Lokhan; a favorable current took 
 them through the Eaven Narrows^, at Prince and Shooter 
 Eapids^ the canoes g.rated 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 
 Zaporojians from the rest of the world. The stillness was only 
 broken by the thundering roar of the waves as they dashed on 
 the rocks of iS'yenashyts. While the men rolled the canoes 
 along, Skshetuski observed this natural wonder. It was a 
 frightful scene. Across the whole breadth of the river in a 
 diagonal line, were seven rocky mounds \ihich were raised 
 above the water. They were black and worn in clefts by the 
 waves which had worn holes in them that looked like gates or 
 entrances. The stream beat with the whole force of its waters 
 on these rocks 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 spirited steed. But it was thrown back again 
 before it could find its way through the openings. It would 
 seem as if it bit the rocks, that in impotent rage it stirred the 
 mighty whirlpool, that it rose in columns in the air, and then, 
 exhausted, sank down seething and bubbling, like a wild 
 
 1 Voronova Zaporas. Kniaj and Stshelch. 
 
 1 20 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 121 
 
 beast. And then again came a noise of thudder 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 they 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 of 
 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 
 swollen with water, and at length arrived in the quiet "Nij- 
 watcr." 
 
 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, however, 
 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 always contained a Cos- 
 sack garrison to repel Tartar invasions. He even undertook 
 to go quite a distance into the country with some of his men, 
 
122 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 to try and get some 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, they'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 si i ore?" 
 
 "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 
 Yeremy 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 were 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 an^ the furs which they ' 
 
WitH FIRE AND SWORD. J23 
 
 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 
 Skshetu ski'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," saidSkshetusld, proudly. 
 
 "Thou?" 
 
 "Am I 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 sufficient 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. 
 
 "We are watching 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 knowest 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 lightning. The lieutenant had 
 split his head open with his poleaxe. 
 
 "Fight! Fight!" howled enraged voices in the crowd. The 
 
124 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 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 was 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 
 with 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 Skshetuski stood overtopping the rest, 
 proud, calm, with his lieutenant's staff in his hand and his 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 135 
 
 head bare; for a Tartar arrow had taken his cap ofE. 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, 
 froin 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 other, consisting of more than two 
 hundred Cossacks and Tartars M^aited 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 froi.. 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'-e 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 prepaf- 
 ing for an attack and with them a i 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 
 
126 WITH FIRE AND 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, surged 
 and howled; they appeared to be fighting with one another 
 and then seemed tn disappear. A few Semenovs resisted still 
 and at the mast stood Skshetuski, his face all bloody, an 
 arrow sunk to the shaft in his left arm while he defended 
 himself with the rage of despair. His 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 assEiilants 
 completely filled the caiques. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 In the cabin of the Kantarz^ in the suburb of Hassan Pasha 
 at Sieh, 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 Chigrin, 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." 
 
 "Pooh! I have no reason to have & guilty conscience." 
 
 "Perhaps the Koshov will destroy all the letters, for he 
 
 'Inspector of weights and measures at Sich. 
 
 127 
 
128 ^i^a Plltl! AND 8W0RD. 
 
 himself is concerned. He 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 Tatarehuk uneasily. 
 "The Koshov has placed guards on all the islands that no 
 one may go over to the Poles and tell them what is going on." 
 In Bazavluk the Tartars are keeping watch; no fish can 
 swim past; no bird fly across." 
 
 "Well then, hide yourself in Sich as well as you can." 
 
 "They will find me. 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 actually nothing in the letters." 
 
 "Perhaps. 
 
 "Alas! Alas!" said Tatarehuk. '"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 see him to-day?" 
 
 "Yes, I smeared his wounds with tar; I poured gorzalka 
 and ashes down his throat; he will get 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 muffled sound of kettle-drums beating in the Koshov 
 square interrupted the conversation. AMien Tatarehuk 
 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 me, you, 
 Philip, say nothing about what I told you; God be with me." 
 
 Then Tatarehuk 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 FIRE AND SWORD. j^rt 
 
 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 which, in times of peace, the Tar- 
 tars and Wallaehs 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 ooeupied, for business frequently changed 
 into robbery in this wild nfst; 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 midst of mud, shavings, litter, and 
 horse-manure, Zaporojians, dead drunk, some in a deep sleep, 
 others foaming at the mouth 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 
 Eussia 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 
 
130 '^ITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 shops reminded one of the wretched Turkish or Tartar vill- 
 ages. In these booths coukl be found all kinds of things that 
 had been stolen in the C rimea, or ^^"allachia, or on the coast 
 of Anatolia. Oriental stutfs 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, brass 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, perfect!}' 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 C'hertomelik and, as already said, always 
 drunk. 
 
 At this moment, the whole of Hassan Pasha was more 
 cro^\'ded 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 barracks, in which the 
 Cossacks lived. These barracks, all of the same size and 
 width, differed in nothing but in names which they had bor- 
 rowt-d 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 cro-nd 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 AND SWORD. j,j 
 
 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 Zalihar 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 
 difEerence 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 I written?" 
 
 "Sec, how they are looking askew at us?" 
 
 "Oh! If I could only get at one of them by the throat 
 then he would not be able to either sec 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, Khmyelnitski following, with 
 his baton in his hand as hetman of the Zaporojian forces. 
 He had been clothed with all his dignity from 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 stall of Commander, 
 also the colors and seal which were usually carried before 
 the hetman. He 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 Lauds; he was Khmyelnitski, 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 only laden himself with new and heavier 
 ones, as was e\ident liy 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. Kimyel- 
 nitski owed his whole importance among the Cossacks to the 
 Tartars and to the favor of the Khan whose representative 
 was wild, unbridled Tukhay Bey. But Khmyelnitski under- 
 stood how to ciimljine the pride which threatened to burst 
 its bounds with humility, as he knew how to combine courage 
 and cunning. He was both 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 Khmypl- 
 nitski with his fleld-marshal's baton. At the left, the Ko- 
 shovs 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 nUB Al^D SWORD. j,, 
 
 peoples, of the relative of the heavenly bodies; with the per- 
 mission of the gracious King of Poland, Vladislav, owv 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 I'oles, the commissioners, the starosts, 
 and the landed proprietors, from the entire nobility and from 
 the Jews. On account of this dishonor, you, worthy Sirs, 
 and the whole of the army of the Zaporojians have already 
 wept many tears, and for that reason you have placed the 
 eommander's-staff in my hand, that I 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 went to the illustrious 
 Czar to implore his assistance, which he has granted us. 
 Joyful, and confident of better things, I was not a little sad- 
 dened when I 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 sha.ll be punished accordihg 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 had been gathered together 
 from the caves, etc., asked the 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 bo delivered up to the commissioners 
 upon their demand. The second letter was from Pan Grod- 
 
124 TT'/rif FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 zitski, also to the chief ataman; the third and fourth from 
 Zatsvilikhovski, the old Cherkass colonel, to Tatarchuk and 
 Barabash. In all these letters, there was nothing which could 
 lay the persons to whom they were written, open to suspicion. 
 Zats\'ilikhovski only requested Tatarchuk to receive the 
 hearer of the letter, and to give him every assistance in ful- 
 filling his mission. 
 
 Tatarchuk 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 unculti\ated and crafty 
 men they kept silent, chiefly for fear tlicy might break out 
 with some foolish speech which would render them ridicu- 
 lous, or malie them forever after the object of contemptuous 
 nicknames. For so it was in Sich hiTe, in the midst of the 
 greatest boorishness, the 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 kissud the Koshov ataman. 
 
 "Worthy sirs,"" now said the Koshov, "I 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 j'ourselves before the ataman," 
 said Khmyelnitfki, "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 indifl'erence; tlien to Khmyelnitski, the commander- 
 in-chief, and then to the Koshovs and left the room. 
 
 Immediately glad cries from the outside showed that the 
 deputation had carried out the order. 
 
WITH 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 
 sctHied 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 upright 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 Tatarehuk 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- 
 ehuk." Several colonels rose from their places, and from the 
 deputies rose cries of "To the gallows!" 
 
 Tatarehuk 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 crow d increased more and more every moment. 
 
 But Anton Tatarehuk 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? Fo! 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? Eh, brother Zaporojians? Tatarehuk went with 
 
136 TT/rff 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 Cossackt;, lived with you, 
 good Tossacks, shed his blood for you, good Cossacks — he has 
 suffered himger in your company, good Cossacks, therefore he 
 is no Pole, no traitor, but a Cossack, your brother, and if the 
 heiijjau 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!"' 
 
 '"Tataichuk is a good Cossack! Tatarchuk is an upright 
 man! ' was heard from several voices. 
 
 "Tiiou, Tatarchuk art a good Cossack," said Khmyelnitski, 
 and I will not denounce thee, for thou art nij' 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, «hen my friend proves a traitor, I 
 am hea^y at heart, and I mourn for the good Cossack. And if 
 you were in the Crimea, 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 Chaplinski, a friend of the Poles, who hid away the 
 documents granting privileges, in order that the Zaporojian s 
 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^ was no hope 
 
With Pire and sword. j,/. 
 
 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 made 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; 1 have not even seen the 
 Pole; not spoken to him. Have mercy brothers: I do not 
 know what the Pole wanted from me; ask him yourselves! I 
 swear by Christ the Eedeemer, 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 Pole 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 Mirgorod cried first "To the gallows!" The depu- 
 ties repeated the cry. Charnota, 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 TT/r// FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 He foamed at the month. Tlie roar of a beast issued from his 
 threat. Twice he lore himself from the hands of his execu- 
 tioners, and twice those hands seized his arms, and his beard. 
 He threw liimself 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 m as 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, tliey 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 tliat 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 tliemselves. 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 the council-chamber, from the mo- 
 ment that the Cossacks had dragged Tatarchuk and the young 
 Baraliash out, the atamans had 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 onlv 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 
 Russian: 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. i,q 
 
 "I 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 Charnota, 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 rfespeet, 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 
 Yeremy Vishnyovyetski will demand an account from you. 
 Ataman of the Koshovs." 
 
 "And why did you show yourself a traitor? Why did you 
 strike down with your 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 this whole thing," said the lieutenant, turn- 
 ing to Khrhyelnitski, "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 I came here with a letter 
 from the prince, not in order to conspire apainst 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 kin?, against all the 
 nobility and against the entire Commonwealth ! You, there- 
 fore, are the traitors, not I, and T tell you this, that if you 
 do not by humility and obprlinncp atnne for your crimes, woe 
 unto you! Are the times of the Pavluks and the Falevaykas 
 
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 pimishment, and to escape death!" cried the 
 Koshov ataman; "but neither your threats, nor your Polish 
 Latin will help you." 
 
 The other atamans 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. I 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 i*^ 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 were sending 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 ^ith blood and 
 began to speak: 
 
 "The commune greets the elders" — here all bowed low, 
 "and pray that yoii will deliver over to them this Pole in 
 order that they mav do to him as they have done to Barabash 
 and Tatarchuk." 
 
 "Give them the Pole," cried Charnota. 
 
 'TDo not give him up," cried another. "They must wait! 
 He is an ambassador." 
 
 "To the gallows with him!" cried a number of voices. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. i^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 I 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 
 shown 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 
 MuTza had protected the prisoner was the only effectual way, 
 for it at once had its eilect 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 .2 WlTtl 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 which 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. 
 
 "^Alienee 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 miirmur 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. j., 
 
 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 echoes 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 aware. 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 Khmyelnitski and Skshetuski went over to the Koshov ata- 
 man's camp for the night, and with them also Tukhaj- 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 an.xious to rescue the prisoner; but he was still 
 more astonished when Khmyelnitski who had hardly sat down 
 in the tent thus addressed 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 liis own. Bismillah!^ One pays, and the other 
 pays — together . . "' 
 
 Here Tukhay Bey reflected: "Two thousand dollars." 
 
 Khmyelnitski answered, "I will give vou 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." 
 
 'Tie saved my life." 
 
 "Allah, that is worth a thousand more!" 
 
 ' In the name of God ; the first word of the Koran, 
 
 144 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. ,45 
 
 Here Skshetuski interfered in the transaction: 
 
 "Tukhay," said he angrily, "from the prince's 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 sufficient. 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 coimt 
 out the montv 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 daybreak 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." 
 
 "G-orzalka 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 
 
146 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, Hetman of the Zaporojians, although 
 I will not conceal from you that I would rather thank anyone 
 rather than you for my liberty." 
 
 "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 you such a promise; if I did so I 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. 1 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 easy 
 task; have written not a few letters before I was able to lull 
 their watchfulness. How could I now permit you to arouse 
 them? If the entire people, 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'^'-engdih; 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 walk 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 down iipon you God's anger and a speedy punishment. 
 Does it become you to call iipon the Highest for protection? 
 You, Mho 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 
 
 H'ith Fire and Sword. 
 
 NOT GIVE YOU SUCH A PROMISE. 
 
WITH PlRn AND BWORD. j^y 
 
 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- 
 monwealth; you will raise your hand against the majesty of 
 the throne; you will insult the altars of God, and all for what? 
 Because Chaplinsld 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 Hell 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 boldness does not exhaust my patience! 
 You seek to frighten me with Hell; you reproach me with 
 selfishness 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 
 promised if I only wish to avenge my own wrong? Look 
 arr.und you and see what is going on in the Ukraine, eh? 
 Tills 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 Kahnovskis, 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 nation 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 themselvef; 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 the Commonwealth! She is my 
 
148 WITH FIRE AXD 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; the 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 Idngs 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 wepi for the 
 slain, the decapitated, the impaled — and now — look here, 
 what is shining 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. I 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 yovi away? Why dost thou 
 not leave judgment and punishment to God? I would not 
 defend the bad, I would not uphold oppression.; I would 
 not call wrong right; but turn your eyes into your own soul, 
 Hetman! Yoii 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 yoiirself ? 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. j.^ 
 
 castles, their cannon and their armies this country that flows 
 with milli and honey wovUd groan under the hundred times 
 more heavy yoke of the TurlvS and the Tartar! For who 
 would protect it? To whose j^rotection, 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 erected 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, Het- 
 man, for you are 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, 
 Hetman! Can 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- 
 
ISO 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 sire to heal and not to amputate the putrid members; and I 
 doubt, if, outside the Comonwealth, there is in the world a 
 power that 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 what 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 wish to set 
 fire to your own nest; with him, sit in judgment 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 court of the great king," 
 he answered gloomily, "and when we wept on account of the 
 injustice and oppression that we suffered, the king said to us: 
 'Have Vdu not guns and swords by your sides?' " 
 
 "If you were to stand before the King of Kings he would 
 say: 'Hast 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 j^our fetters." 
 
 "And to fasten on them the fetters of the Tartars." 
 
 "I wish to defend the faith." 
 
 "With the at^sistanc-e of the Heathen!" 
 
 "I tell you you are not the voice of mv conscience, silence 
 I say." 
 
 "The blood that is shed will weigh upon you; the tears of 
 men will be yoiu- accusers; death awaits you; judgment stands 
 ready for you!" 
 
 "Stop!" cried Khmyenitski in a towering rage, and flour- 
 ished his knife before the breast 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, threw 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?" 
 
WtTB PIIiE AND HWOllD. 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 back . . 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. 
 
CHAPTEE 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. Kegiment 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 march 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 behind 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 reserve 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 stretched 
 out like a limitless sea before the troops and joy filled the 
 hearts of the Cossacks at this sight. The great red flag 
 with the archangel displayed on it was repeatedly 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. jc- 
 
 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 ye Steppes ! Oh land of home I 
 In flowery garments 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, and 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 times 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 unfilled 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 
 yengeance; there, at the head of his forces sat a youth with 
 
154 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 thoughtful countenance as though he realized his sad in- 
 glorious destiny. 
 
 The im^tfinse steppes lay between them as yet. 
 
 Khynielnitski 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 Chigrin, 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 iovra 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 reddish clouds were grouped together in the west 
 in the shape of dragons and leviathans, and approached each 
 other as if they 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 
 grass 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 down a path for the in- 
 fantry who moved forward with difficulty and finally were 
 left a considerable way behind. Meanwhile, darkness fell 
 over the steppes; the immense, red, gleaming moon broke 
 slowly through the clouds, but "was ever again hidden; it 
 shone brightly for a few moments and went out again like ai 
 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- 
 haps 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 camnon of Kudak however echoed in the 
 heart and ears of Skshetuski. The young knight vi^ho, at 
 Khmyelnitski's command, had been carried along in the 
 army of the Cossacks had become very ill the following day. 
 
156 WITH 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 red 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 
 eamp 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 
 witli his small sword in his hand, but he is an incomparable 
 fighter and whoever interferes with hinl is as good as dead. 
 Over there, Pan Podbipyenta seems to raise his executioner's 
 sword! ^Vill 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 forward 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 8W0BD. j^y 
 
 Skshetuski, 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 cleai'er. Water-birds were beginning their morning 
 chatter. 
 
 "Listen Zakhar, have we already passed Kudak?" asked 
 Skshetuski. 
 
 "Yes," answered the Zaporojian. 
 
 'Where 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 tesiege 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. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 The thunder of the Kudak cannon 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, eomanded 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. 
 
 Kshechovski — 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. ilany thought 
 they saw in him the suceesscir of Stephen Khymelnitski who 
 had begun as a simple knight of the steppes, and had risen 
 to be "Voyevoda of Kiev, and senator of the Commonwealth. 
 It depended on Kshechov^ki himself, whether he would fol- 
 low the same road, upon which courage, a wild energy, and 
 a boundless ambition impelled him, equally hungry for 
 wealtli 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 
 bosom, although he was almost ill from envy and anger. 
 Now, fate appeared once more to smile on hitn for, as the 
 
 158 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. j^g 
 
 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 Kshechovski, that he must share 
 his important office 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 he 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 case 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. 
 
 Kshechovski ordered and managed 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. Kshechovski 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 Ke continued his journey. 
 
 The boats floated down the Dnieper towards Kudak and 
 distanced the royal forces more and more. 
 
t6o ^ffff PItiB ^^t> 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." 
 
 "EZhmyelnitski 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, however, 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 affair!" 
 
 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 vixer 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?" 
 
WITH PmW AND SWORD. igj 
 
 The same question presented itself also to Kshechovski who 
 sat in the prow of his boat, buried in deep thought. lie 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- 
 selves 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? . . . 
 
 "He 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 unexpectedly 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 ^TI^B FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 that this shoiild have all happened without his son's assist- 
 ance, bnt he will soon recover himself and, meanwhile, all 
 the rays of glory and of the royal grace will fall upon Kshe- 
 ehoski's victorous brow.'' 
 
 And yet I shall have to divide the glory with old Bara- 
 bash and with Grodzitski! Ksheehovski 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 Ksheehovski 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 marshal's baton; the wind stirred the reeds, 
 and to him it seemed as if it were the rustle of the hetman's 
 bunchult. 
 
 The cannons at Kudak contiued to thunder. 
 
 "Khmyelnitski is offering his throat to the sword," thought 
 the colonel, "but that is his own 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. 
 
 Ksheehovski 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, Ksheehovski clenched his fist. He had 
 not received the starostaship, in spite of his military ser- 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 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 wa$ 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 light. 
 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 djoes 
 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." 
 
164 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 '"Gut, sehr 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 the 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, tlie 
 mist might rise and reveal the expanse of the steppes. 
 
 Flick paddled away. The people on the boats moved 
 slowly. Kshechovski'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; otherwise 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. 
 
 Pugu! Pugu! 
 
 Then silence. 
 
 Pugu! Pugu! 
 
 Ami again all was still, as if those voices that called from 
 flic shore were awaiting an answer. 
 
 Piut 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: 
 
 "Wlio goes there?" 
 
 "A C'osf^ack from Lug!" 
 
 The hearts of the Semenovs who were in the boats beat 
 restlessly. That mysterious call was familiar to them. In 
 this way the Zaporojians signalled to each other in winter 
 
WITH PIRB AXD tiWORD. 
 
 I&5 
 
 quarters. In this way also, in times of war, they invited their 
 brothers of the regular regiments and the Uossacks of the 
 towns to a conference. Many of these Cossacks belonged 
 secretly to the Brotherhood. 
 
 Again sounded Kshechovski's voice: 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "Bogdan Khmyelnitsld, the Hetman of the Zaporojians, 
 announces that the cannon are trained on the Poles." 
 
 "Tell the hetman 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 U 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 Hetman 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 I 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." 
 
i66 ^^'t'J'M Pint: -l-V-0 SWORD. 
 
 Kshecliovski looked sternly into Klimyelnitski'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." 
 
 ''AVhat do you want with me?" 
 
 "Eide a little way with me across the steppes and we will 
 come to an understanding." 
 
 They mounted their horses and rode away. They were 
 gone one hour. On their return, Kshechovskd's face was 
 pale and agitated. He took leave of Khmyelnitski, who said 
 to him on the road, 
 
 "We two will he the only ones in the Ukraine and over 
 us the king alone, and no one else." 
 
 Kshechovski 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 Kshechovski, ia a 
 commanding voice. 
 
 Barabash opened his sleepy eyes. A strange fire was in his 
 glance. 
 
 "What?"" he said. 
 
 "Go ashore. "\\^e 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 boat darted away like an arrow. Kshechovski, ^vith 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: 
 
 "Children, we will not kill our own people; long live Bog- 
 dan Khmyelnitski, the Hetman of the Zaporojians!" 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^^ 
 
 "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 of 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. He wished, how- 
 ever, to retain such a large number of incomparable and well 
 armed infantry for Khmyelnitski, therefore he preferred to 
 treat with them. 
 
 For 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 men, 
 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. 
 
 "Herr Hauptman!" 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 are no traitors. Otherwise no 
 
WITH inilM ANb SWORD. i(,g 
 
 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 awn 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 German 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 ofE 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 Germans, 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 ctilmness 
 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 signal 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 German 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. 
 
176 WITB FIRE AXb SWORD. 
 
 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. "1 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. 
 
CHAPTEE 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 upon 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 Slcshetuski was the re- 
 membrance of the prince. Khmyelnitski 's star would pale 
 when that of the prince rose in Lubni. iVnd who could say 
 that he had not already united with the hetmans? Although 
 Xhmyelnitski's forces were strong; although his expedition 
 
 171 
 
172 niTH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 had begun successfully; although Tukhay Bey accompanied 
 him and, in the event of mishap, the "(.'zar" 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 Commonwealth 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 
 always been thus. AMaen, on the one hand, a swarm of Xij 
 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 — and 
 good weather come again. This thought encouraged Skshetu- 
 ski, kept him, so to speak, on his feet; for other^vise 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 would 
 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? Wliat 
 might be happening to Helena in Eozloga? 
 
 But Helena must surely be in Lubni. In his dreams the 
 lieutenant saw her surrounded by friends, flattered by the 
 prince and by the Princess Grizelda, admired by the knights — 
 and pining for her knight who had disappeared somewhere 
 in Sieh. 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 be broken and all anxiety, all sorrow, all unrest would 
 be at an end. 
 
 The storm-wave was indeed mnving forward. Khmyelnit- 
 ski marched on without delay with his forces, expecting to 
 meet the son of the hetman. His power was truly formidable, 
 for with him, in addition to Kshechovski's Smeneovs and the 
 ehambvils of Tukhay Bey, he led nearly five and twtnty thou- 
 sand trained soldiers eager for the fray. Xo positive informa- 
 tion had been received of Pototski's fighting strength. Fu<r\- 
 tives said that he had two thousand heavy cavalry, and some 
 cannon. Under these circumstances, the issue of the battle 
 
117?'^ trllti) AND .VtVOfti). j^^ 
 
 might be doubtful, for an attack by those dreadful Hussars 
 was often sufficient to exterminate a force of ten times their 
 number. Khodldevich, 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 English 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 captured. They confirmed the report of the weakness 
 of the king's army, and brought word that the 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 beaten. The Cossacks could not stand in the 
 open field against cuirassiers, but they fought excellently be- 
 hind earthworks, and as they had such an overwhelming 
 superiority of numbers they would undoubtedly repulse their 
 dspailants. Khmyelnitski depended upon Pototski's youth . 
 and inexperience, but the young Castellan was accompanied by 
 an experienced warrior, the starosta of Zyviets, Pan Stephen 
 Charnyetski, colonel of the hussars. He appreciated the dan- 
 ger and persuaded the Castellan to return across the Zolta 
 Woda. There was nothing for Khmyelnitski to do but to 
 follow him. On the following day after they had crossed the 
 Zolta Woda, the two opposing forces stood face to face. 
 
 But neither of the leaders would make the first attack. 
 Khmyelnitski's camp began hastily to surround itself with 
 earthworks. It 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, 
 "I will not hesitate to undertake an engagement with the 
 hussars, for they would sink in the mud in their heavy armor. 
 
 1 Sanioil Welichk. 
 
174 WITB FIRE AXh 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 hugles 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. 
 
 KhmyelnitsM 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 sunken valley of the 
 steppes, the swamp of the Zolta Woda water, and both armies. 
 But hardly had Skshetnski cast a glance over the country 
 when he put both hands to his head and cried: 
 
 "By the living God, that is only a vanguard, nothing more." 
 
 In truth, the fortifications of the Cossack camp were al- 
 most a mile and a quarter in extent, while those of the Poles 
 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 was at hand, so at least it seemed. 
 
 The skirmishing had already begun by the firing 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 fighting 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 pistols or bows, or sought to entrap one 
 another with lariats. These skirmishes, observed from a dis- 
 tance, seemed like play, and it was only when a riderless horse 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. j-c 
 
 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 that 
 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 
 tako 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, 
 
176 MITU FIRE AXD fe'WO/J/). 
 
 Then sounded the great drum of Sich, and at its call a 
 giganl^ic 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, but such an 
 event did not seem jirobable 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 looked 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 heads. 
 
 "The hussars are attacking," cried Skshetuski. 
 
 They had crouched in their saddles and galloped forward, 
 and immediately behind them came the dragoons, and the 
 whole line of battle. 
 
 The assault of the hussars was terrific. In the first attack 
 they fell upon three kurzens, those of Steblovski and that of 
 ilirohorodzki, ; nd annihilated them in an instant. The 
 shouts and cries came to Skshetuski's ears, 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 swallowed 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 swann 
 of fugitives rushed among them, and began to retreat in dis- 
 order, ileanwhile hussars had called iip the assistance of 
 the dragoons and with them, began a bloody slaughter. The 
 kurzen of Yasyurynski 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 himself 
 leading a regiment. Zakhar held him by the coat, and called 
 others to assist him. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOIW. j-- 
 
 The fighting was so close to the Cossa'ck camp that one 
 could almost distinguish the faces of the soldiers. Thfe 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 five 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 two 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 
 ilood-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 rage, 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. Kow 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 when 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 
 
1^8 fVITE FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 first cannon that «ame 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 bet wen his hairless lips. 
 
 "Where are the men, where are the prisoners, where are 
 the heads of the generals, where is the yictory?" 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 roj^al camp. 
 
 "Then go thither," growled Tukhay Bey, and if you will 
 not go, I will lead you with a rope to the C'rimea." 
 
 "I will go," said" Khmyelnitski. "This very day I will 
 go! I will fetch soldiers, I will fei:ch prisoners; but you 
 must render the Khan an account, for you demand prisoners 
 and are afraid of the battle." 
 
 'TDog,"" 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 Balaban'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 miich as courage. If I can persuade the 
 dragoons to desert, not one man will escape me! Do you 
 understand ? 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. j-g 
 
 "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 Ksheehovski. 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 Khmyelnitslci 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 shattered 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 
 first 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 Eozloga. There in the vicinitv of the lion's den, it would 
 be quiet as in poppy-land; there the in'^urrection "would never 
 raise its head and, should it do so — Helena would undoubtedly 
 be already in Lubni. 
 
l8o "iVlTB PISE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Suddenly the thunder of cannon interrupted the golden 
 thread of his thoughts. 
 
 Khmeylnitski had drunk himself full and was leading his 
 regiments 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 imdertake 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 heav];- 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 seemed 
 as if every moment that barrier would be broken and the as- 
 sault inevitably begin on the ramparts. Skshetuski observed 
 that the regiments did not fight with half the courage or 
 half the eagerness that they had thown the fir^ 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 heavj- 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. He, himself, was everv- 
 where. He, himself, led every kurzen to the attack and only 
 retreated before the swords of the enemy. His zeal infected 
 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. igi 
 
 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 tliey 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 Zaporojiaas 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. 
 
 Khm^lniteki, 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 trumpets 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 ploughed 
 furrows in their ranks. The report of firearms was more 
 frequent. The thunder of the cannon was unceasing. His 
 
I82 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 eyes filled with tears. Here and there the ranks of assjulants 
 twitched convulsively like a wounded snake, bivt they 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 see 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. "Wlaat is that? What has 
 happened?" 
 
 "Almighty God!" 
 
 This cry escaped Skslietuski's lips as he opened his eyes 
 and, instead of the 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 the details 
 of the battle. It was not for nothing that Tukhay Bey had 
 called Khmyelnitski "serpent," for just at the moment of the 
 most obstinate resistance the Balaban dragoons had been per- 
 suaded to go over to the Cossacks; 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 hours after the battle and died in 
 Stephen Charnyetski's arms. 
 
 "Tell my father," whispered the young Castellan in his 
 dying moments, "Tell my father that I ... as a knight . ." 
 
 He could say no more, his soul left his body and flew to 
 Heaven. It was long before Skshetuski forgot that pale face 
 and those blue eyes, directed to Heaven in the moment of 
 death. Charuyetski made this vow over the cold corpse, that 
 if God gave him back his freedom he would wash away the 
 insult of captivity and revenge 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 brave 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 CharnyetsM, "but she has an irresistible strength in her- 
 
"ALMIGHTY GOD' 
 
 With Fire and Sword. 
 
 . ESCAPED FROM SKSHETUSKI'S LIPS. 
 
WiTn PI RE AND SWORD. rgt 
 
 self. l?o 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 upon 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 crushed — perhaps, forever. They must in- 
 deed be of little 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 Charny- 
 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 Bey'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. 
 
t84 ^''^^^ J'^fiE AXD awolW. 
 
 "They did not have an}' difficulty with young Pototski," 
 he said, "but they will have trouble with the lietmans. 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 KhmyelnitsM's favor; it 
 might, ind€ed, tell against him; for it was easy to foresee that 
 the Grand Hetman, 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 Hetman had a certain grudge against Prince 
 Yeremy which although it was concealed by politeness, never- 
 theless came to Ihe 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 pursiiing the 
 hetman. It seemed 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; withoxit 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 SWOIW. 185 
 
 agreed that the Ukraine was in flames. The peasants were 
 not only fleeing to Khmyelnitski 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 
 "blacks" and were waiting everywhere to enlist. Khmyelnit- 
 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 people 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 passed through it; he moved 
 onward like an avenging angel; like the dragon in the legend, 
 his steps pressed blood from the groimd; 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 Korsun and they at- 
 tacked them without delay. But they paid dearly for their 
 rashness. Eepulsed, decimated, almost annihilated, they 
 were forced to retreat in disorderly flight. 
 
 Khmyelnitski hastened to their assistance. On the way he 
 received news thai 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 AXD 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 Zabokshytski's house — ^the 
 "blacks" had already hanged its owner, and placed a guard 
 made up from the remnant of the camp of ilirgorod 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-thirsty 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 with 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 Jewish 
 boys by their feet and tore them asunder amid the mad 
 laughter of the crowd. Thej- 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 immeasiirably 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 fixe, but 
 
With miiE and swoitD. 
 
 187 
 
 the immense blaze lighted up the market as brightly as sun- 
 light. It became unbearably 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, :^an 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 was heard 
 and several dozens of foam-ilecked 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 "blacks" 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 
 wrhole 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; l>eat them, huntod them, slashed them out of the 
 way with their swords and dashed forward with their horses, 
 on to the highway that led to Cherkass. 
 
 "They are flpng like the storm-wind," said Zakhar. 
 
 The words had hardly been spoken when a second division 
 came by, and a third. Tbe flit^ht seemed to be general. The 
 sentries before the houses began to become impatient and 
 
i88 With firB axd sword. 
 
 also showed a desire to run away. Zakliar dashed through 
 the porch. 
 
 "Halt!" he cried to his ilirgorodians. 
 
 The snioke, the heat, the confusion, the tramping of horses, 
 the noise of the fire, the howling of the mob all blended to- 
 gether i the glow ' of the flames in a helhsh speietacle 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. 
 
 Suddenly a dreadful voice, close to the house, began to cry: 
 
 "Save yourselves, Khmel is slain! Elshechovski is slain! 
 Tukhay Bey is slain!" 
 
 Upon the market place it seemed as if t might be the 
 end of the world, ilen plunged madly into the flames. The 
 lieutenant sank on his knees and lifted his lands to Heaven. 
 
 "Almighty God! Great and just God! Honor be to thee 
 in the height!" 
 
 Zakhar interrupted this prayer by springing into the room: 
 
 "Oh, child!" he cried, gasping for breath, "come out and 
 promise pardon to the Mirgorodians, for they want to run 
 away — and if they riy, the '"blacks' will dash into th? house." 
 
 Skshetuski went on the balcony. The ilirogodians were 
 pacing uneasily up and down and showed an unmistakable 
 wish to leave their watch, and to hasten to the highway which 
 lead to C'herkass. Terror had seized every one i i the town. 
 Xo\v and then crowds of fugitives came liy, as if on wings 
 from Kruta Balkg. All fled in the greatest confusion; peas- 
 ants, Tartars, Cossacks of the towns, and Zaporojians. And 
 yet Khmyelnitski must still he maldng resistance; the battle 
 could not be 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 ^lirgorodians 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 8W0BD. igg 
 
 ski, not long before, a prisoner who was dragged along with 
 the Cossack troops, now stood among that bold Cossack crowd 
 like a master among 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 hu hips, and joy beamed on his 
 countenance that was lighted up by the glow of the iire. 
 
 "Thus the war is at an end! Thus the wave has broken 
 on the threshold," he thought. Charnyetski 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 naught 
 fod shattered as are the powers of liell at the gate of Heaven. 
 He was proud as a noble patriot, tliat 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 changed into an un- 
 interrupted thunder. Again the noise of tramping horses 
 was beard in the deserted streets. A Cossack riding bare- 
 back dashed like lightning into the market place, bare- 
 headed, in his shirt-slovos, 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!" 
 
 Xo sooner had he spoken, than he reeled and fell to the 
 ground. The Mirgorodians hastened to his assistance. 
 
I go 
 
 WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 
 
 Color and pallor alternated in Skshetuski's face. 
 
 "What does he say?" he asked feverishly of Zakhar. "What 
 has happened? It cannot be! By the living God, it can- 
 not be!" 
 
 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 surroimding some men on foot; evidently pris- 
 oners. Skshetuski could not believe his eyes. He recognized 
 in the prisoners the uniform of the hetman 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 the streets that the fire had not reached, 
 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. 
 
 Kshechovski'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 before 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- 
 
WITH FiRlH AND STfOTJD. jg^ 
 
 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 KJimyelnitski. At either side of him rode Tukhay 
 Bey and Ksheehovski. 
 
 The Commonwealth lay in dust and blood at the feet of 
 the Cossacks! 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 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 wliieh had hitherto ever been victorious in the 
 wars with the Cossacks, the capture of the hetmans, the ter- 
 lifie 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 
 slunned with horror; others again lost their reason or prophe- 
 sied the coming of Auti-Christ and the approach of the Last 
 Judgment. All bonds of brotherhood, all human and family 
 relations were 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 hearts and minds 
 were transformed, and held as holy what had formerl}' been 
 considered dishonorable and what was once vile was now 
 holy. The sun no longer illumined the earth, for the smoke 
 of burning towns 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 all 
 these terrors, this lust of murder, these groans, this fire and 
 smoke, one man alone rose higher and higher, grew ever more 
 terrible and giant-like, till he almost blinded the light of day 
 and east a shadow from sea to sea. 
 
 This man was Bogdan KhmyelnitsM. 
 192 
 
WITH FIRE AND BWORD. jg. 
 
 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 Eussia, 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 
 drunk, 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 
 
1^4 W'/rff FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 that would insure his pardon and give him satisfaction and 
 recompense for the injustice and injury done him. He knew 
 the Commonwealth thoroughly; knew her patience, that was 
 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 Yoyevodas, matters 
 had proceeded too far, results had gone beyond all expecta- 
 tions — ^the conflict must now be carried on for life or death. 
 
 And on whose side would the victory remain? 
 
 Khmyelnitski asked the soothsayers, read the stars, looked 
 ^\ ith 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 i-aw 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 fii'm 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? 
 Then half a million of the nobihty alone might take the field 
 and crush Klimyelnitski, even if not only the Khan of the 
 Crimea, but also the Turkish Sultan, should come to his as- 
 sistance. 
 
 This latent strength of the Commonwealth was known not 
 only to Khmyebiitski, but also to the late King Vladislav and, 
 therefore, he had striven his whole life long to enter into a 
 v.ar for life or death with the most powerful ruler in the 
 world, for only in this manner could that strength be called 
 to life. In accordance with this conviction, the king had not 
 hesitated to throw 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 broken 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 
 net 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 Avas 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 v'ctory lay the 
 shadow of a futiire 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. 
 
 I'rom Greater Poland (Wielkopolski), from Prussia, from 
 the swarming Masov, from Little Poland (Malopolski), and 
 Lithuania 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 Ycremy 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 M-ithout 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 Commonwealth. They expected him hourly in the 
 Cossack camp. Shortly after the fight at Kruta Balka the cry 
 
196 WITH FIRE 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 sufEer 
 defeat in a decisive battle with so celebrated a warrior, and 
 then, everything would be lost forever The "TDlacks" 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 
 sending single regiments to aid the "T^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: 
 
WifB ffiRE AND SWOUD. igj 
 
 "Lieutenant Skshetuski, in consideration of the service 
 that you rendered me, I bought you from Tukhay Bey, and 
 promised you your freedom; now the hour has arrived for 
 me to give you a piernacli^ 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 
 miseralile 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 Sieh. 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 
 would 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 Eozloga, 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 I have suffered ninre 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 
 
 ' A CoBsack Colonel's baton that took the place of a safe-conduct. 
 
igS WITH riRE AXD tiWORD. 
 
 might, at this very moment, be calling in vain on God for 
 assistance. In short, he suffered 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 lie said: 
 
 "ilake 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 enem}', for I know well that you will take up arms against 
 me." 
 
 Thereupon Skshetuski answered: 
 
 '"If God 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: 
 
 ''IVell, 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 I warn Mm not to 
 presume too rashly, for, if my patience is exhausted, I will 
 hunt liira up beyond the Dnieper country, and I do not know 
 whether my visit would be agreeable to him." 
 
 Sk-lictusid was silent. 
 
 •'I liave said it and repeat it again,"" continued Khmyelnit- 
 ski, "that it is not with the Commonwealth, but with the 
 petty princes, that I am carrying on war and the prince takes 
 the first rank among them. lie is my enemy and the enemy 
 of the people of Russia; a renegade from our Gliurch and a 
 tyrant. I hear that he is going to put down the rebellion with 
 l)loo(l; let him see to it that he does not shed his own." 
 
 Then he grew more arid more excited, so that the blood 
 rijse to his face and his eyes flashed 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 piit my feet on his neck; I will bind him 
 on his back upon a horse!"" 
 
 Sk-lietuski looked at the fiirioits 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. lyg 
 
 let yourself be carried away by anger against him; and, as 
 j^ou have promised him freedom, he thinlis 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 the 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, I 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 I 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, I 
 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 WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 "As you 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 the 
 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. AVindows 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 joined, or not wished to join 
 the rebellion; men of the higher nobility or of the petty 
 
WITH HUE AND SWORD. 201 
 
 nobility, Yice-starosta officials, 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- 
 ers 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 witli 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 Eos; 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 ^I'^^ PIR^ ^^^ SWORD. 
 
 plices, or even in women's dresses, disputed and wrangled 
 about what should fall to their share. Chaban 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. I'acks of dogs 
 rrho had followed their masters tarked 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 breathe 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 Cherkass, 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 sstill 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 odor of 
 the raw flesh choked one, and, between the heaps of raw 
 meat, blood-smeared Tartars with their knives in their 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 ivith a screaming 
 noise at the approach of the horsemen. Khmyelnitski's 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 2(;)3 
 
 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 they 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 numoer c '^ noblemen from Konopland, Stavsiela, 
 Vienzovka, Balrikleya, and Vodacheva had also been mur- 
 dered. The tower 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 hero 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. 
 Enough 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- 
 ODel 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 
 
 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 but started without delay for Eozloga. 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 \yagon 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 behind 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 until they 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 Skshetviski. 
 
 "We come from nowhere," answered the old man. "We 
 go from door to door with a lyre. This dumb boy leads me." 
 
 "WTiere 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 
 3'ou strung up." 
 
 "I know nothing, sir. If I know anything, or anything 
 happens, may I . . . " 
 
WITH PIRE AND SWORD. 205 
 
 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 Eozloga, where the Princes Kurtsevich 
 live?" 
 
 "I do not knoWj 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?" 
 
 "I 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 Eozvan'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 Icnight's 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 Skshetuski's 
 lips. 
 
2o6 WITH PtkH AXD SWORD. 
 
 The house, the barn, 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. He 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 him 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 with mist, so that he could 
 not distinguisli 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 Chigrin; old Zatsvilikhovski, and Zagloba's impudent 
 face. This face stood out with remarkable clearness before 
 his vision until it was finally blotted out Ijv Grodsitski's 
 gloomy countenance. Then he seemed to see Kudak, the 
 Porog, the battle at Kliortj'fs, Sich, the whole journey, and 
 all the occurrences to the last day — to the last hour. From 
 that out, all was darkness. "What was now happening, he 
 understood but vaguely; he had only a dim impression that 
 he was travelling to Helena, to Eozloga; that his strength 
 had given out and he was resting upon the ashes. He -R-ished 
 to rise and continue his journeys, 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 tliey 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 into 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. 
 
 ]\Ieanwhile other regiments 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- 
 jovski, 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 indifferent 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." 
 
2o8 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, ilukhovyetski. 
 
 All were silent and knelt down as if they expected a mir- 
 acle hut 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,Xostci\qui es in coelis! sanctificatur nomen tuum,ad- 
 vcniat regmum tuum. fiat voluntas iiia! . . . " 
 
 Here he broke off, and after a moment he repeated more 
 loudly and solemnly: 
 
 " . . Fiat voluntas tua! . " 
 
 A profound silence reigned. 
 
 "... Fini rnluntas tua! . " Eepeated the 
 
 priest for the third time. 
 
 Then from Skshetuski's lips issued a voice of intense pain, 
 but also of resignation. 
 
 "Sicut in coelo, et in terra!" 
 
 And the knight threw himself sobbing to the ground. 
 
THE RUINS OF ROZLOGA. 
 
 With Fire and Swora, 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 H 
 
CHAPTEE I. 
 
 In order to explain more clearly what had happened in 
 Rozloga, 'we must go back to the night when Skshetuski sent 
 Jendzian 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 skifE which Grodzitski was cend- 
 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 KsheehoYski 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 Chigrin at daybreak. 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 Colonel 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 Colonel Loboda," answered the sergeant of the post, 
 who had received orders from the Chief 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 Jalenski, where were 
 the quarters of Colonel Loboda. Here they were told that the 
 colonel had ridden early in the morning to Cherkass and that 
 the lieutenant-colonel "represented him. They waited some 
 
 21 [ 
 
212 WITH PIRB AND SWORD. 
 
 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 Grodzit- 
 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 great desire to find out why Grodzitski was send- 
 ing men and a boat to the Chief Hetman, but the captain 
 could give liim 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 I see? Nothing but piles of hay in the comer. 
 AVhat is that, I asked dryly. 'Dry,' he said. I looked closer, 
 and what did I 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 I will drink the mead, for I am a 
 man ; and here's the big bottle I 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 ! Yagush, Hey ! Kundush give me the bowl " 
 Ana give 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 Irom 
 Kudak?" 
 
 "My master had so much business in Lubni, and it was on 
 account of that he commanded me to return. I 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 Eozloga." 
 
 Jendzian turned his head and listened as though he had 
 not heard distinctly, and asked: 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "In Eozloga." 
 
 "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 to Jendzian. 
 
214 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ 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: 
 
 "Eead 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 Eozloga." 
 
 "So little falcon, you are travelling to Lubni, and do not 
 know where Eozloga 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 Hetman 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 God's help, I 
 hope to leave safely to-morrow morning for Sich; and I am 
 writing at night, as I cannot sleep for anxiety lest any harm 
 should happen to you, through that villain Bohun or his col- 
 leagues. As Colonel Christopher Grodzitski told me yester- 
 day that a great war would soon break out, in which the 
 entire "blacks" would take part, I conjure and entreat 
 yoii, 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 Tjubni 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 I may be able to count on my promised 
 bliss and be happy on my return. And why should Your 
 Grace trifle with Bohun and throw dust in his eyes after 
 having promised the girl to me; it would be far better to place 
 her imder the protection of my lord the prince who will not 
 delay to send a garrison to Eozloga, by which means your 
 property will be saved." 
 
 "Ha! Sir Bohun," said Zagloba, "the knight is trying to 
 
WITH FIRM AND SWORD. 215 
 
 put horns on you. So you've been toasting the same girl! 
 Why did you say nothing about it? But talce 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. 
 
 "Eead! Read!" 
 
 Zagloba began: 
 
 "Sweetest, dearest Halshka, my heart's 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 
 Ghost! 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. 
 
2i6 TF/rff FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Bohun meamvliile had clutched his head with hoth hands, 
 whining like a wounded wolf; then he fell on the bench and 
 continued to whimper unceasingly, for his heart was break- 
 ing with rage and pain. Suddenly he sprang up, hastened to 
 the door, kicked it open and sprang into the hall. 
 
 "Go and break your neck," murmured Zagloba to himself. 
 "Go and dash your head against the stable, or against the 
 bam, if you can butt like the cattle with your head. I call 
 that raging madness! I have never seen anything like it in 
 my life. His teeth snapped 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 belonged to the nobility." 
 
 Zagloba rested Jendzian's head against his knee and slowly 
 poured 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 blood 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 Lord gave each nation a different drink, in order that 
 each one might have its comfort " 
 
 Jendzian groaned feebly. 
 
 "Aha! 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, I 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 
 his 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: 
 
 "Boys, 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, Zagloba 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 
 us to hold ourselves in readiness and to saddle the horses." 
 
 "Is mine ready then?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 217 
 
 "Bring it here! So I shall find the colonel with the regi- 
 ment?" ^ 
 
 "There he conies!" 
 
 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 people 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 his ease here. One asked him no questions. He was on 
 
2i8 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 good terms with the nobility, with the landed proprietors, 
 and with the Cossack chiefs; these latter were now indeed dis- 
 tributed in all directions, and the nobility sat quietly in their 
 comers from dread of the storm. But Bohun was a most 
 excellent companon, a drinker among 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. 
 
 I^ow, 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 assistance 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 lie was leading 
 them. They were ready to follow him to the end of the world. 
 
 After thej' 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. The}' slackened their pace and 
 moved like a straggling band along the highway. Presently, 
 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, Bnhxinl" 
 
 The Cossack leader looked at him with his deep-set, black 
 eyes as though he had just awakened from sleep. 
 
WITH FIRE AND ^WORD. jlo 
 
 "Look out for yourself, little son," said Zagloba, "lest 
 melancholy 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. J did not know that you were such an 
 amorous gentleman. You must have been born in May and 
 that is the month of Venus, in which the air is so full of love 
 that 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 than 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 is 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-hilL 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 Cossack good enough for you, 
 was he not your friend and brother when he went into the 
 Crimea, when you said 'brin? back some Turkish spoils. 
 Divide the booty.' Ah! they did that, sure enough; called 
 me little son, promised 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 " 
 
 ITis 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 restraint. Zagloba waited until he should become 
 exhausted and calm himself. 
 
 "What do you think of doing, unhappy bully? How will 
 you act?" 
 
220 WITH FIRE AXD SWOItU. 
 
 "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 and the prince is 
 a terrible lion." .... 
 
 "The Khan is also a lion, and yet I ran into his jaws and 
 lighted up his eves with torches." 
 
 "AMiat, madman? Do you wish to declare war against the 
 prince?" 
 
 "Klunyel 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,' 'rapta 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 ray 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 Vasil, 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." 
 
 "^Miere will yoii go when you 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 I^kraine, and then I would have marched 
 against Khmyel and acainst 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. 221 
 
 "And now you are raving mad." 
 
 The chieftan 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 liimself. There was no doubt 
 that Bohun intended to attack the Kurtseviches to avenge 
 the injustice done him, and carry oft' 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 on 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 again^jf 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 
 
 6 
 
222 M'lTB FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Tartar! I've gone to a fine wedding, tnih! May the light- 
 ning strike the Kurtseviches, and all the women! What do I 
 care about themy I do not need them any more! \Miatever 
 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 the 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 flayed on both sides." 
 
 These reflections caused Zagloba to perspire freely and 
 made bim 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 HeavensI what 
 would he have given to be sitting now in the cool shade, 
 in the inn, with a glass of cold beer before him, 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. 
 diu-ing 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 sudednly. 
 
 ''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. 
 
wiM PiRE Ann sworn. 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 officer 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 goblr. 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 Chigrin. 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 done." 
 
 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 the glimmer of a light. 
 
 "That is Eozloga," said Bohun suddenly. 
 
 "Indeed, brrr! 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. 
 
2^4 
 
 wiru fiRii A\u sWouD. 
 
 They both stood motionless, on the edge of the ravine; 
 presently was heard the snorting of approaching horses. 
 Bohuu'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 knJLihts rode into the courtyard. 
 
 "Listen, ihixim, do not close the gate, and do not draw up 
 the bridge, for I shall soon go awav." 
 
 "Yon 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 
 stretched 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 those 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 were 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 WIfB PtRE AnO SWORD. 
 
 "Helena is asleep." 
 
 "That is a pity, for I shall not remain here long." 
 
 "And where are yon 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 Eozloga 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 was 
 no life, no existence for the Cossack. So you received the 
 Cossack with kindness." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 227 
 
 "Why 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 I 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 Hetman 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 I thank you, but, before 
 the war, 1 should like to hear once again from your mouth 
 that you will keep your word. The 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 throw 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 young 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 pocket, turned to Zagloba, and said: 
 
 "Eead!' 
 
228 WITH FIRE A.YD SWORD. 
 
 Zagloba took the letter and began to read. A gloomy si- 
 lence reigned. 
 
 As he finished, Bohun crosed his hands on his ibreast. 
 
 "To whom will you then give the girl?" he asked. 
 
 'TBohunl" 
 
 The voice of the Cossack leader sounded now hke the 
 hissing of a serpent. 
 
 "Traitors! knaves, dog-faith followers! Judases! ..." 
 
 "Eh! little sons, draw j'our 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 fii-ed. 
 
 "JesusI" 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 Sem- 
 enovs sprang into the hall. 
 
 "KiU 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 Seraenovs seized her and dragged her by 
 the hair to the side of the room, while the young Xicholas. 
 forced into a corner of the hall, was defending himself with 
 the courage of a lion. 
 
 "Back! backl'' cried Bohun, suddenly, to the Cossacks who 
 surrounded them. "Back!" he repeated with a voice of 
 thunder. 
 
 The Cossacks drew back. They thought their leader 
 wanted to save the bov's life, but Bohun himself, with his 
 sword in his hand, threw himself on the young prince. Then 
 began a frightful duel, which the princess, held back by the 
 hair by four iron hands, watched with burning 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 croiiched, parried 
 his opponent "s thrust, and, from defending himself began to 
 attack. 
 
WITB PISB AND SWORD. 
 
 i2g 
 
 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 swords. 
 
 For a moment it seemed as if the obstinacy and immense 
 strength of the lad would conquer the Cossack leader, for 
 he began again 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 
 let 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 WITH FIRE AXU sWuRb. 
 
 In the doorway- appeared blind Yasil and willi him, Helena, 
 in a white nightrobe, herself as white as the robe, with terri- 
 fied face and open mouth. 
 
 A'asil 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 tioor, 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 ofiE Ms 
 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 A'asil's words. He, 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 obtain mercy. Woe unto you, brothers! Woe unto me! 
 Oh! Oh! Oh!" A heavy sigh escaped his breast 
 
 "God be merciful to us," said the Cossacks in mufiled 
 tones. They were under the influence of an indescribable 
 teiTor, and began to cross themselves in fear. 
 
 Suddenlv, a wild scream came from the princess. 
 
 "Yasil! "Yasil!" 
 
 There was something so heartbreaking in her voice that 
 it might have been the last cry of a dying one. The Coss;icks 
 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 Cossacks spranir towards him and supported him. 
 
 "Are you wounded, little father?" 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 2%l 
 
 "Yes, but it is nothing; loss of blood. Here, iny men, 
 guard this girl as the apple of your eye. Surround the house; 
 let no one go out. . . . Princess. ..." 
 
 He could, say no more; his lips became white and his eyes 
 were clouded. 
 
 Carry 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; 
 I 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. Now, 
 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 wiJl pot be able to Riove hajid or foot for two days," he 
 
2,2 WITH FIRE AXD 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 hts children, for you are handsome. Xo, 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 conipanion. Let the hangman light you home! Let him 
 light you!"' 
 
 Bohun 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 shaU 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, imtU 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 corner, the body of the pnircess 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. AU 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 
 thev were wells, and drank unceasingly. Some, to whose 
 head the gorzalka had already mounted, were chasing the 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOltl). 23^ 
 
 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 eourtesied 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 Eozloga. 
 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 Kurtseviches 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 s'teamed with heat; most of them 
 could hardly keep their feet. Zagloba, who had gone out 
 upon the porch, let his glance rest upon the drunken men; 
 then he looked attentively up at the sky. 
 
 "The night is fine but dark," he murmured. "When the 
 moon goes down they will be so that you may hit them on the 
 snout." 
 
 With these 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. Haida! Haida! Your teeth will not become blunt. 
 He is a fool who does not drink to-day to the health of the 
 ataman. Go for the barrels! Go for the girls! Uha!" 
 
 "Uha!" 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!" 
 
:534 "T/Tii FIRE AXD SWOSt). 
 
 The command was immediately obeyed and several 
 drunken Cossacks started oil 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," answered 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- 
 lowed them everything they wanted. 
 
 The watch drank with the rest — Zagloba b^an a conversa- 
 tion with the peasants from Rozloga. 
 
 "Peasant," 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; I feel warmer." 
 
 The mead had really done Zagloba 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. 
 
 "I 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 presence. 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 AXD SWORD. 
 
 Helena wavered; distrust was evident in her countenance. 
 
 "Dare I trust you?" 
 
 "And whom could you trust hetter?'' 
 
 "True, very trae, hut swear to me that you will not betray 
 me!" 
 
 "Young lady you have lost your reason, but if you wish it 
 I will swear. So help me God and the Holy Cross, here is 
 ruin; salvation lies in flight.'"' 
 
 '^es, that is true."' 
 
 "Put on male attire as quickly as possible, and wait."' 
 
 "And Yasil?"' 
 
 "What Vasil?"' 
 
 "My imbecile brother," said Helena. 
 
 "Ellin threatens you, not him," answered Zagloba. "li he 
 is out of his mind he is sacred to the Cossacks. I 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, hut his eyes were 
 open: 
 
 "Do you feel better?" said Zagloba. 
 
 Bohun wished to speak but could not. 
 
 "Can you not 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 by his eyes that he could not. 
 
 "Can you not?"' 
 
 Again Bohun made the same sign. 
 
 "So much the better; you will not be 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 me to powder in her mill! How, 
 you villain, do you think I have not had enough of your 
 society? I can not be friends wiih asses of common people 
 any longer. No! rascal; yoii believed that 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, '^''as he dreaming? Was 
 
wim PiRE Ann sword. ^^^ 
 
 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 to 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 overspiread 
 his countenance. With a superhuman effort, he ra'sed him- 
 self and from his lips came a scream: 
 
 "Hey! Semen—" 
 
 He could not finish for Zagloba had thrown his own coat 
 over his head with the swiftness of lightning and completely 
 wrapped 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-moiTOw your head might ache, and, as 
 your friend, I 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 knot 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. ISTow farewell, I 
 could kill you with a dagger thrust and that might be best 
 for me, but I em 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 them flay me and make straps 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. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 Two riders rode slowly and quietly through the woody ravine 
 which lay close by Eozloga. 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 
 o\'er 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 raxiue 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 
 Eozloga, 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. 339 
 
 "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 I have lived, I have 
 never had such a squire — but I think Skshetuski w^ill 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 twisted 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 calcula'ted 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 tha/t 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 Eudomin 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 Eozloga; 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." 
 
 "What had I done to him, unf ortimate me, that he should 
 have pursued me. I have known him since childhood and 
 from childhood he has always awakened fear in me. Am I 
 then the only one in the world, that he should love me: th^t 
 
2^0 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 he should have shed so much blood on my account; that he 
 shoidd have murdered my cousins? . . God! when I think of 
 it, my blood congeals. What shall I do; where seek refuge 
 from him? Do not be surprised at my complaints, for I am 
 unhappy, I am ashamed to have inspired such love, and 
 would rather die a thousand times than return it."' 
 
 Helena's cheeks were flaming. Tears of anger, pain, and 
 contempt coursed down her cheeks." 
 
 "I wall 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 Cossack and 
 then betrayed him; for when he heard of it, he flew into such 
 a rage that I could not reason with him. I am sorry for your 
 murdered cousins, especially the youngest; he was yet almost 
 a child, but one could see that 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 wiU 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 woidd lik€ 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 I had enough of 
 it and I do not care for another and therefore I 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; I 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 hetman's orders; he has opposed 
 himself to the Yoyevoda of Eussia and there is nothing left 
 for him to do but to fly to Khmyelnitski. But his pride wiU 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 24 1 
 
 be laid low when Khmyelnitski is beaten and that may al- 
 ready have happened. Jendzian met the forces beyond 
 Kremenchug, that were marching against Khmyelnitski 
 under the command of Barabash and Kshechovski; and, be- 
 side this, Stephen Pototsld has a,dTanced across the steppes 
 with his hussars. But Jendzian passed ten days 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 his blood on my account!" 
 
 "Do not grieve, princess; he will live." 
 
 "When did it happen?" 
 
 "Yesterday 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 interrupted 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, 
 '^ho are you?" 
 
 16 • 
 
242 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 The rider suddenly reined in his horse, sat up in his saddle, 
 hut haxdly looked up as he exclaimed: 
 
 'Tan Zagloha!' 
 
 'Tlesnievski, 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!" 
 
 "WTiat 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 this morning at daybreak. An im- 
 mense army. The whole country in flames, the peasants ris- 
 ing in ever}' direction, blood flows! Fly, sir!" 
 
 Zagloha opened his eye to its fullest extent; opened his 
 mouth, but could speak no word for astonishment. 
 
 "Fly, sir!" repeated Plesnievski. 
 
 "Jesus ;Maria!" cried Zagloha. 
 
 "Jesus Maria!" repeated Helena, bursituig into tears. 
 
 "Flv, or it will be too late." 
 
 "Whither? Whither?" 
 
 "To Lubni." 
 
 "Are you hastening there?'' 
 
 "Tes, sir: to the Prince Toyevoda." 
 
 "The devil take you!" cried Zagloha, "and where are the 
 hetmans?"' 
 
 "At Korsun, but Kshevonos is already fighting with them." 
 
 "Kshevonos or Prostonos (crooked nose or straight nose) 
 the plague take him? Why should we also go there?" 
 
 "You're running into the lion's mouth; to your own de- 
 struction." 
 
 "And who sent you to Lubni? Your master?" 
 
 "My master fortunately mad€ his escape, and my godfaither, 
 who is with the Zaporojians, saved my life and helped me to 
 escape. I am going to Tjubni on my own account, for I do 
 not know where I can take refuge." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 243 
 
 "Avoid Eozloga, for Bohun is there; he will also join the 
 rehels." 
 
 "For God's sake! Help! In Ohigrin it is said that the 
 peasants 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 Eozloga," 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, Khmyelnitski, 
 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 left to oil my boots with. What shall we do ? Where 
 shall we go? In the whole 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 that 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 ofE 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. 
 
244 "^^^ ^'^^^ ^^^ STfoRb. 
 
 tlirough my own wit, I escaped safe and sound, althougli my 
 beard, as you see, has grown gray in consequence. But we 
 must get off the highway. Turn out, princess; that's it; you 
 manage 3'our horse hke the cleverest Cossack; the grass is 
 tall; no eye can see us." 
 
 As they got farther into the steppes, the grass became 
 liigher so that they wer€ finally completely buried and the 
 horses had great difficulty 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 
 v.ere there already. But nothing is better than this high 
 gi-ass, for, once you are hidden there, the devil himself eoidd 
 not find you. Pray God, if only we do not lose our way!" 
 
 Then he dismounted and lifted Helena off her horte. Then 
 he took off the saddle bags and produced some provisions 
 which he had, with forethought, provided himself with be- 
 fore he left Rozloga. 
 
 "^'e 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 
 garri.<oned. Plesnievski has said that the peasants were ris- 
 ing beyond the Dnieper; H'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. Bijhun has a sound neck, but if this hand 
 should fall upon it, it will bend him to the earth, which God 
 grant, Amen! Eat 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 cabbage are in the head and if you want to keep 
 your head clear eat peas and cabbage, and our head went 
 wrong, for we would have done better to have fled to Luhni; 
 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 8W0BD. 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 Skshetuski 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. Skshetuski 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. I tell you. Princess, that all 
 his bones 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 recogpized 
 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 see the reeds 
 and rushes of the Kahamlik. If we had not left the highway, 
 we would haye 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 tell you. Princess, that I am desperately sleepy. The 
 night before last, we caroused in Chigrin; yesterday the devil 
 permitted me to ride with the Cossacks to Kozloga, and, this 
 night he carried me again from Rozloga. I am so sleepy that 
 I have even lost the desire 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' — yet I feel that my tongue is weak; I ask 
 yoiir pardon. Princess, if I nod a little." 
 
 "You need not make any apology," answered Helena. 
 
246 WITH FIRE AXD 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 soon 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 rustMng of the grass caused by the horses going through 
 it, had lidled 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 Eozloga; the frightful scene of 
 murder; the unexpected assistance and flight; aU 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 
 liis name, but this name gave her no clue to the motive of his 
 act. How had he come to Eozloga? 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. Wliat a 
 ttirn of Fate I Only yesterday, she lay down to sleep beneath 
 the qaiet 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 aU its evils, terrors and horrors? 
 And had she placed her entire confidence in this man? Xo; 
 but on another Avho 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 
 
WltH FIRE AND 8'WORD. 247 
 
 1)6611 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 take 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 the 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 th'e 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 eyeUds grew heavy; the 
 horses moved slowly; the motion rocked her back 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 np, worthy sir." 
 
 Zagloba opened his eyes. 
 
 "What is it? Where are we?" 
 
 '"I do not know." 
 
 "Wait a minute, lady, this is a Cossack wihter quarter." 
 
 •'So it seems to me." 
 
 "Here arc no doubt Chabans (herders^), not exactly agree- 
 able society. Why do these dogs yelp as if they were bitten 
 by wohes. I can see men and horses behind 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 
 liorses, or trainers, who in summer watched the herds on the 
 steppes. Zagloba remarked at once that only one of them had 
 a sword and carried a gun. The others were armed with 
 hoi-ips" 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 o£E their 
 caps. 
 
 "God be praised," said Zagloba. 
 
 "For ever and ever. What do you want?" 
 
 ' Tartar herdsmen. 
 248 
 
LIKE TWO ARROWS THEIR HORSES FLEW ALONG. 
 
 With Fire and Sword. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 349 
 
 "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. 
 
 "Yoii 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?" 
 
 "1^0. 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!" 
 
 "Do 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 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "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 bant. 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. "Ifow, 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 lias 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 C'henstohovo. 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 
 tor 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 
 wsinted to get some assurance frora Zagloba, she said: 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWO&D. 251 
 
 "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 Eozloga 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 Ijank to reach the highway; we will 
 ride up the stream in order to efface our tracks. We go to- 
 wards Eozloga 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. Eein 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 difBcult 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 drag their feet after them. From 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. It 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 ofP the horses' bridles, tied them to- 
 gether, and let 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: 
 
^5^ "iPITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 ''Lie down. Princess, and sleep, for we have nothing better 
 to do. The dew will spriakle 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 Ught might attract the herders. The night is 
 short, and at daybreak we will ride on. Sleep quietly, lady, 
 we have doubled on our tracks Uke 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 shoiilders 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 «as 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 lier 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 liall 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 8W0BD. 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: 
 
 "Dha! 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. What 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 age; 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 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 on foot. It is the worst thing that could have happened to 
 us. We must 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 airowlike 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 
 saddle cloths with us to sleep on, and some provisions; but 
 there will not be much left when I think that we must 
 strengthen ourselves." 
 
 They 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 thafs the road to Zolotonosha," said Helena. 
 
 "Bah! there's none here whom one can ask." 
 
 Zagloba 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 blind old beggar with a lute. A little boy is leading 
 him. ISTow they are taking off their boots. They are cross- 
 ing the river, and coming towards us." 
 
 The splashing of the water soon announced that they were 
 crossing the river. 
 
 Zagloba and Helena came out of their hiding places. 
 
 "Praised be God," exclaimed the nobleman. 
 
 "For ever and ever," answered the old man. "Who is 
 there?". 
 
 "Christians, fear nothing, old man, a good friend." 
 
 "May St. Nicholas give you health and happiness." 
 
 "And where do you come from, poor old man?" 
 
 "From Brovarki." 
 
 "And where does this road lead?" 
 
WITH nkB AND SWORD. 255 
 
 "To farm houses, sir, and to village. ..." 
 
 "Can one get to Zolotonosha by this road?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Is it long since yon 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 Eozloga, for we want to go there." 
 
 "Oh, yes, it is a long way." 
 
 "So you say you were in Eozloga." 
 
 "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 hang 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 ^ITS FIRE AMD SWOltD. 
 
 own hands to tear the clothes ofE 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 ftiglit 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 Vallachia, he will be very un- 
 grateful, for I have increased 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 I 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 get 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 SWOUD. ^^j 
 
 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 joyous 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 Eozloga, 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 Shrove 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 Bondarovha or about Serpiahova's death? Oh, I can 
 sing these too. I am a rogue if I 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 
 
 ir 
 
25§ VriTB FIRE AXt) SWORD. 
 
 days, naked, in the rushes, for terror, and ve 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 Kimyelnitski'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 Cossack disguise, and get into 
 this peasant boj's clothes. You're a little too pretty for a 
 peasant boy and so am I 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 
 allmyfat. When the Walla chians 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 Gcd 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 burn 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. 359 
 
 "But you said that the Wallachians burned your eye out." 
 
 "Yes, Wallachians but naturalized Turks and in service 
 under 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? I must cut them ofE?" 
 
 "Yes, we must do that, but what with?" 
 
 "With 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 I 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 oft' 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 why 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 gooseflesh. 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 AXD 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. 
 
 "I 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. Xow we can go 
 forward fearlessly. I asked the old man about the road and 
 held mj- knife at his throat while I did so. He 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. I shall never forget 
 them. Xow, 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, 
 b}' 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 I 
 had the good sense, like another Cunctator to combine fore- 
 thought with braver}', Zats\ilikhovski 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 cgin 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 gnmted and cursed, for he 
 was warm from walking although a wind was blowing across 
 
WlfB lURE AifD &WORD. 
 
 2bi 
 
 the steppes. This wind gaye 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 wilderness," 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; "last 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 shots 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 FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 grown to like you, and it is probably because I am unmarried 
 and have no lawful heirs; if I have unlawfxil ones they are 
 JIussulmans, 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 I can hardly move." 
 
 "And there you were, boasting of your strength, yoting 
 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?" 
 
 'TLet 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. ily 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: 
 
 "Eemember, lady, that you are dumb. If anyone asks you 
 anything, point to me and say: IMm! hm! hm! nya! nya! I 
 have noted that you are very quick-witted and it is a question 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOHD. 
 
 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? Ha! ^Ha! 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 WrTH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 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 wiU 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. 'TVe 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 BrovarM." 
 
 "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 
 iaid 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 wjir, 
 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 from Khmyelnitski." 
 
WiTe PittB A^b 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 groimd; 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 
 ranger. 
 
 "Pan Gdeshinski." 
 
266 ^IJ'B FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "And where is he?" 
 
 "He has fled." 
 
 "And why did he flee?" 
 
 "Because he heard that pikes and scythes are heing made, 
 he was frightened and ran away." 
 
 "So much the worse; he will tell the prince ahout you." 
 
 "Wliy are you croaking Uke a raven?" said an old peasant. 
 Well, naw, we believe that the black hour has come to the 
 lords; they will exist no more, neither on the Eussian 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 C'lirist 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 formerly 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. Xow every- 
 thing belongs to the nobility and to the princes." 
 
 "You are right, children,"" said the blind man, "Taut I will 
 tell you one thing. You know yourselves that you cannot 
 withstand the prince, here, you know. THioever wishes to 
 slaughter their masters had better not remain here, as long 
 as Khmyelnitski has not measured his strength with the 
 prince, but 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. 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 
 
 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." 
 
 "Lord have mercy on us?" 
 
 "And where shall we find Khmyelnitsld?" 
 
 "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, 
 but get a wagon ready for me and I will travel with you; and 
 before we get to Zolotonosha I will go on ah6ad 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 
 much longer on earth. I also heard that the vampires are 
 rising from the graves and howling." 
 
 The assembled 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!" 
 
 Suddenly a young Cossack stepped forward out of the 
 crowd, shook his pike and cried: 
 
 "Brothers, if ^^-e are to go to Zolotonosha, let us go to-dny 
 to the house of the Commissioner." 
 
268 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "To the Commissioner's house!" cried all the voices at once. 
 
 "Bum! 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 
 burn, 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." 
 
 '■^Vhat 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 imtil 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 went into the village, which 
 was not far off. The night was beautiful and peaceful. The 
 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 Wliat would 
 
 we have done without the peasants' dress As it is 
 
 on earth, so it is in heaven. ISTow 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 howHng 
 
WITH PIRE AND SWORD. 269 
 
 over there at the forge. . . . Amen. . . . It is a heavy task 
 but 1 am a rogue if I do not rescue you; even if we have to 
 fly to Warsaw. ..." 
 
 "What are you mumbling about there, old man?" asked the 
 peasant. 
 
 "JSTothing. 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, arined with pikes and scythes. 
 They passed by Kavrayets, Chernobay 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, Bohim's men found 
 him ahnost 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 fjom his own bloody forehead, and 
 darted among his men with his dagger in his hand, so that 
 his SemenoTS 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 
 hke a vampire who, terrified by the morning light, is fl^ying to 
 its grave; and behind him came his faithful Semenovs in the 
 firm conviction that they were hastening to their death. In 
 tliis 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 tolture. 
 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 
 Yasilovka who had fled ia 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 plimdered and burned it down, together 
 with Prince Tasil; hoping that if the princes or Prince 
 Teremy wished to revenge themselves they would lay the 
 270 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 371 
 
 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 Eozloga, 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 th^t 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 was, besides, so terrified that he hid himself in the rushes 
 like a fox. 
 
 Meanw'hile, 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 
 — 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." 
 
272 
 
 WITH FIRE AXD SWOBD. 
 
 "And be on your guardj 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 Gherkass, 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 loio^v?" 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 miniite 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 why 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 peasants to rebel?" 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 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 be 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 AXD 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 B&y. 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 hctman'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 ease. 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 
 lea\ing Demainovka if he wished to reach Prokhorovka. They 
 arrived at Jlogilna, which lay directly on the river. Here, 
 fate favored Aitony, 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 Voda 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 FIRE AND SWORH. 
 
 275 
 
 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- 
 m.ans 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?" 
 
 "He was not old btut 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. N"ow Anton 
 knew what he had to do. 
 
 "Oh, we will bring the young thing back to the Atman," 
 he murmured io himself; then turning 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 id; was made by nature 
 
276 tr/Tfl FIRE AXD SWOKt). 
 
 itself. This ravine lead to Kavraytsa. They rode several 
 furlongs w-ithoTit 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 his breast and 
 a deathly pallor overspread his countenance. 
 
 He recognized Prince Yeremy's dragoons. 
 
 It was too late to fly. There were not two hundred paces 
 between Anton's troops and the dragoons, and the exhausted 
 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 his 
 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 freqiiently seen in 
 Pereyaslav, he cried jo;s-fully: 
 
 "Lieutenant Kushel; thank GodI" 
 
 "Ah; it is you," said the lieutenant, looking at the ser- 
 geant. "Wliat are you doing here? Where is your atman?" 
 
 "The Chief Hetman sent our atraan 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 Eozloga, 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. lieiitenant, 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 
 Xdibni." 
 
WITH FIBE AXD tSWORD. 277 
 
 "Oh, and where is th'e prince?" 
 
 "He was in Pshyluka. He may possibly have gone to 
 Lubni yesterday." 
 
 "That is a pity. The atman had a letter to the prince from 
 the hetman; 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 
 sight 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. 
 
 Jlean while 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- 
 
278 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 believe no longer. The terrible, ominous truth struck him 
 like the blow of a hammer. KhmyelnitsM had tnrmphed; 
 the royal army was defeated; the hetmans were prisoners, and 
 the whole Ukraine 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 hxmted 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, espeeialh' to escape with a girl who, in spite of 
 her disguise, as a beggar boy, attracted universal attention by 
 her 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 means of escape. To give up Helena and 
 leave her to Grod'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 me 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, 
 
WitB mM A^D SWORD. jy^ 
 
 flat bottom boats, caiques and small boats from Pereyaslav to 
 Chigrin for Kshyvonos and the regiments under his com- 
 mand. There was only an unseaworthy flat-bottomed pont in 
 Prokhorovka. A thousand men were waiting for this pont 
 to get across the 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 
 bepide 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- 
 bed 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 Eosa some noblemen who were a/ttempting 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 Cossack 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!" Then the mob would 
 dash blindly towards the shore, crowd each other and fall into 
 the water. Ome 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- 
 
28o WltB FIRE AXD SWOttlJ. 
 
 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. 
 
 "Boom for t£e old beggar, room for the old beggar,"' cried 
 Zagloba, holding Helena before him with outstretched hand, 
 and sMelding her from the crowd. "Boom for the old beg- 
 gar. I am going to Khmyelnitski and Kshechovski. Boom 
 for the old beggar, good Cossacks, dear people, brothers, may 
 the black death overtake you, you and your children! I do 
 not see very well. I shall fall into the water and my boy with 
 me. Make room httle children I ilay you be paralyzed in 
 all your limbs! May the plague take j'ou and may you all 
 perish at the stakel"" 
 
 Thus cringing, cursing, prapng, 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 wiU sink the boat if too many of you crowd on it. 
 Enough, enoug'li, 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!" 
 
 Tlie oars began to move and the boat left the shore. The 
 strong current carried it down the stream in the direction of 
 Domontova. 
 
 They had hardly got half way 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. 
 
 "Wliat'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 away like a Cossack canoe. At this moment, some 
 horsemen appeared on the Prokhorovka shore. 
 
 'TTerremy'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 ^WORD. ^Sl 
 
 "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, as if he 
 were being flayed, he began to scream: 
 
 "Children, those are Vishnyovyetski's Cossacks. For God 
 and the 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 boaA," 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 pont and to chop it to pieces 
 with their axes. The seats and the shattered 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 screaming: 
 
 "Ohop it, break it! Burn 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; biit 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, siid- 
 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 fornieQl 
 
282 WITH FIRE A\D SWORD. 
 
 eddies and whilrpools. The horses were carried away by the 
 stream and eotdd not swim straight across. The water car- 
 ried them down with increasing swiftness. 
 
 "They cannot cross," cried the peasants. 
 
 ■'They are drowning." 
 
 "Thaiii: Grod! Oh, one horse has already sunk." 
 
 "To destruction with them." 
 
 The horses had already swiun 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 Shelepuklia hastened to the spot, in order to 
 see what was going on. Now, only the hoi-ses 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 foiirth, a fifth . . . the 
 nimiber of the swimmers was growing smaller. On both 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 already hear the heavy breathing of 
 the horses, and the voices of the Cossacks urging them for- 
 ward. It was evident that some of them woidd 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 
 disappear«d. 
 
 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. . . . 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Before Vishnyovyetski had found Skshetuski seated on the 
 ruins of Rosloga, he had already heard of the defeat at Kor- 
 sun, for Colonel Polanovski, an officer of the prince, had 
 brought him the news in Sahotyn. The prince had stopped 
 before this in Pshyluka and had sent Captain Boguslav Mas- 
 kievich with a letter to the hetmans, in which he inquired 
 where they desired him to station himself with his entire 
 forces. As, however. Pan Mashkievich was a long time in 
 bringing back an answer, the Prince marched to Pereyaslav 
 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. The 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 i)attle should ever leave him. 
 But when he met Colonel Polanovski and heard 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 himself 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 Cherkass and Mantow, to Sye- 
 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 Ezishchov 
 
 283 
 
284 WITH FIRE AXD f?WORD. 
 
 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 an}- of those places for, as has been 
 already said, the Chief Hetman 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, Tolodiyovski and Yurtsel 
 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 Ltibeeh, 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 hear\- 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, tjie 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 Eus- 
 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 tliirst 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 WITH FIRE A2fD 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 
 KhmyelnitsM vrith 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-Euka, 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 them to rise and asked why they came. 
 
 "A letter from the hetman," answered Sukha-Euka. 
 
 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 i let their 
 heads sink on thoir 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 Yishnyovyetski. 
 He acted with friendliness perhaps only to lull supicion and 
 thus to sting more easily. He 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 ahve and well. 
 
 Here followed long complaints of SkshetusM's haughtiness; 
 that he had not been willing to take letters from Khmyel- 
 nitski to the prince and thus grossly insulted his dignity as 
 
WtTB man AND SWoRD. 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 regi'et 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 efEort. 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 from 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 XriTB FIRE AXD i^WORD. 
 
 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 KhmyelnitsM'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 Kimyeliiitski 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 Zamoyski, 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 Mxikhovyetski. 
 
 The other officers said nothing: they followed the example 
 of the commander, struck their swords and ground their 
 teeth: Turtsel however said: 
 
 "ily 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: 
 biit he (Klimyelnitski) has made himself a hetman and can- 
 not be regarded otherwise than as a liandit: and, therefore, 
 Skshetuski behaved in a praiseworthy manner when he re- 
 fused to carry these letters to your Highness." 
 
 "1 am of your opiniion." said the prince, "and as I cannot 
 reach liim 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 to behead these 
 Cossacks: but to cut a stake for their leader and impale him 
 at once." 
 
 Yyershul 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 
 
WtTB fIRE Ali}t) SWORD. 
 
 289 
 
 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, 'T)ut 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 nobility on the way, cross the river 
 at Brahinov, and then march towards the south. Now to 
 Lubni." 
 
 "So help us God," said the colonels. 
 
 At this moment, the door opened and Eostvorovski ap- 
 peared, the commander of the Wallach company who had been 
 sent out three days before with three hundred horsemen, to 
 l-econnoitre. 
 
 "My Prince," he cried, "the insurrection is growing. Eoz- 
 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 C'herkass, 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 
 
2gO iriTH FIRE 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 unwiselj', 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 Eoz- 
 loga was burned down! The girl must have been kidnapped. 
 Here, Yolodiyovski, come here! Take five hundred horse- 
 men and set out at once for Cherkass; Bikhovyets with five 
 hundred Wallaehs will go to Prokhorovka, by way of Zolo- 
 tonosha. Do not spare the horees; and whoever frees the 
 girl, shall have Yeremiovka as a life property. Xow hasten, 
 hasten." 
 
 Then he said to the colonels, "And we gentlemen will go 
 to Lubni by way of Eozloga." 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- 
 Euka 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. ISTow, 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. 291 
 
 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: 
 
 "Wliat 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 not 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. 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 Late that evening beneath a bright sky, the forces arrived 
 in Rozloga. There they found Skshetuski sitting upon his 
 Mount 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. 
 "\^Tien 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 tlie 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 wiU 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. 
 
 '^'^eep, weep, for your loss is heavy and we will weep with 
 yoii; for you are not among heathen, nor among wild Scyth- 
 292 
 
WITH A SHOT, PUT AN END TO HIS TORMENTS. 
 IVUh Fire and Sword. 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 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 do^vn," 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 Longin 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- 
 ered 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." 
 
 Skshetuski 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 ii^ 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 WITH FIRE AND 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 SkshetusM 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. 'We 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 Cherkass 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 Cossaclc 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 ZatsvilikhovsH, "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 burn 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 TVITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 had been killed, but that Xicholas had woimded 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. 
 
 "Thaf s it! thaf s it!" said Zatsvilikhovski. "Here peasant, 
 take this gold crown; you see no harm will happen to you. 
 Did yon 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 bHnd in one eye." 
 
 "By Heaven," cried Longin, "that must be Zagloba, and no 
 other. Ah!"' 
 
 "Zagloba! Wait 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?" 
 
 "Xo 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 lie started off in another direction." 
 
 "Praised be Grod!"" said Migursld. "Then she may be in 
 Lubni, for it means nothing that they followed her to C'her- 
 kass; for as they did not find her in one place they tried 
 another."' 
 
 Pan SkshetusH 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 Skshetusld, 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 
 jnany a goblet at Bohun's expense; but that he should have 
 
WITS fiBB! AND 8W0BD. agy 
 
 bound Bohun and carried off the girl; I could not have be- 
 lieved him capable of aueh a bold deed, for I took him for a 
 bully and a coward. He is 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 ha^ 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 Grodzitski 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 
 Eepublic. 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: 
 
jng WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 "The Hetmaa is an old and experienced warrior, but he 
 had too much confidence in himself and that is the reason 
 of his downfall. He imderestimated this whole rebeUion 
 and, when I 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 one 
 is free from blame. ..." 
 
 "The prince was right; for even he, himself, was not with- 
 out blame. ISi ot 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 ease he was obliged to tsike 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 FIRM AND SWORD. 299 
 
 also epme hither, the vice-starostas, all kind of officials, those 
 of noble rank, farmers, Jews, in a word, all, against whom the 
 rebels might raise their hands. It seemed as iif 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. Everyi^here 
 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; 
 
200 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 misfortime 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 born 
 and grown up here, and who were leaving behind them the 
 graves of their parents. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 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 
 perhaps 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 Eozloga 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 
 
302 
 
 WtTB FIRE AAD SWORD. 
 
 misfortunes of his fatherland, for it was exceptionally \rrong 
 to pity oneself more than one's fellow creatures, and to 
 sorrow more for beloved ones than for the general unhappi- 
 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, yon 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 give 
 you back your beloved and send His 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 sufEering. Many hours 
 passed, and the lieutenant remained motionless, as one dead. 
 But he felt, ever more clearly, that bitterness, despair, hatred, 
 sorrow, care, sutt'ering were leaving his heart, were disappear- 
 ing from liis breast and gliding forth like serpents, to seek 
 a hiding-place elsewhere in the darkness. He 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. 
 
 The 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 ofRcers; 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 Eussia. 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 feared 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 coinmon 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. Eound 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 Eostvorovski and Vyershul; then Pan Wurtzel's ar- 
 tillery, and Major Makhnitski's infantry; then followed the 
 princess with all th$ ladies of her court and the whole house- 
 
304 
 
 WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 
 
 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 diiiicult 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 so, 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 8W0BD. 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 iield 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, 
 Teremy Yishnyovyetski!" And hundreds of flags were 
 lowered to his feet; the hussars fired ofE their carbines; the 
 kettle drums roUed 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 YishnyovTetski, Yoyevoda of Russia, prince 
 of Lubni and Yishniovtsa, 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 sword 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 nf 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 Yasyntynsld'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 whic'h 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/yff FIRE AND 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 that does 
 not matter. The fire will not cross the rivers that flow into 
 the Trubiej." 
 
 In fact so many little rivers flowed into the Trubiej, along 
 which the army was niarching 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 SWORD. 309 
 
 and the wagons moved along 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 interminable. 
 
 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 — Vyershul's 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 fied 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 ouitside; 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. It 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 afEection 
 was riveted between him and his army. 
 
 The same evening the prince said to Zatsvilikhovski so that 
 every one 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. 
 
 "Vivat," 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 became 
 the Xenophon, and a three days' passage of the Desna the 
 army finally arrived at Chernigov. Sksihetuski 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 
 were 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, "but why did he fly 
 across the Dnieper, and not to Lubni or Chernigov." 
 
 "Calm yourself, my dear little fellow, I iknow this Zagloba. 
 He has drunk with me and is my debtor. Money is no con- 
 
 3" 
 
312 WITB FIRE AXD 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 hack; but, that he could commit such a deed, 
 I will never believe." 
 
 "He is a trifling man," said Sksthetuski. 
 
 '"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 jusrt 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 passed 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 pefeple 
 oannot 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 three 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- 
 geance on them for these deeds. 
 
 The prince, meanwhile, had reached Lebetch 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 FIBE AND SWORD. -513 
 
 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 seats, 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 Hve 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. Bach 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 permission, began at 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, Eostvorovski to 
 Zuckovna, the red-haired Vyershul 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 wis-h, because I thought 
 that there woiild 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: 
 
 "You 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, when 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." 
 
 "Pe truly surpasses j^ou in the sword as in politeness," 
 
WITH fIRB AND 8W0BD. ^j^ 
 
 answered the cool-headed girl, "I thank you that you re- 
 minded me of him. Tharf; was right!" 
 
 Then she turned to the Lithuanian: 
 
 "Come nearer, sir; I also want my knight and I do not 
 know that I oould hang this scarf 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 oS 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, little 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 the 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 
 
3l6 fVITB FIRE A\D SWORD. 
 
 away, and, besides, you will come across more Heathens than 
 there are mosquitoes here above our heads." 
 
 Regular clouds of mosquitoes swarmed above the horses and 
 men, for the army was in the country 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 Nothing Grave with his little daaghter, 
 Two kegs of axle-pitch and 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 fo-rtun'cs. 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 mounds 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 days, 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 days 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!" 
 
 With Fire and Sivord. 
 
, WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^17 
 
 night in the swamp and dampness was the common fate of all. 
 The horses' hoofs began to soften and peel ofE; many sank 
 down before the cannons they were drawing, so that the foot 
 soldiers and Volodiyovsld's dragoons had to drag the cannon. 
 The aristocratic regiments, such as Skshetiiski's hussars, Zats- 
 vilikhovski's company and the Cuirassiers 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 the 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 once 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 by 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 prince saw this, he restrained with a firm hand 
 any breach of order among the soldiery, so that the army 
 should 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 readied 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. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 Khmyelnitski meanwhile remained for some time in Kor- 
 sun; 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 Tartar heads, and Skshetuski had 
 rightly prophesied that the Zaporojians, whom Poniatovski 
 had taken near Kaniov, had spread a false report. 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 Xohayski 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 Perekop. 
 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. Fnhappy land! When 
 the insurrection broke out, Xicholas Pototski tlrst devastated 
 it and pimished 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. ^10 
 
 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, Handja, and Ostap, advanced on Nestervar. 
 They captured it and killed the inhabitants, Jews and nobles, 
 to the last man. They Idlled 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 difEerent 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 officers 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? 
 
 Ife therefore summoned all his officers to a council; let his 
 blood-shot eyes, beneath which all trembled, wander round 
 the circle, and gloomily put this question to them: 
 
 "What's the ne^ thing ? What do you want to do?" To 
 go to Warsaw? Then Prince Vishnyovyetski will come here; 
 
320 WITH FIRE AXD i^WORD. 
 
 Strike down your wires and children like Ughtning, and leave 
 behind him nothing but earth and water. Then he will fol- 
 low us to Warsaw with the whole might of the nobUity, who 
 will unite 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 wall 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 Khmyelnitsld con- 
 tinued: 
 
 "AMiT 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 he 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 liis death had not yet reached Khmyel- 
 nitski — the chancellor and many men, who would willingly 
 do anything to oppose the power 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 Klhmyel- 
 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 
 
Wim FIRS AND SWORD. 32 1 
 
 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 he 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 VishnyoYyetski, 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 
 'TDlacks," "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 
 
 31 
 
322 WITB FIRE Ayo 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 eeremonj-, 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 KhmyelnitsM. 
 
 "Get up hetman, come to yourself," answered Vyhovski. 
 "An envoy has come." 
 
 KhmyelnitsM 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 VyhoTski: 
 
 "Wlio has come? From whom?" 
 
 "The priest, Patronius Lasko of Hushchy, from the Toye- 
 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 Yirgin," 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 annoimcel 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 Pohrebysheh, the 
 estate of the prince Zbaraski, and has left nothing behind 
 him but land and water. Dreadful things were related of the 
 storming and capture of Pohrebysheh, 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. Xot a living soul escaped from the town. Seven 
 hundred prisoners were hanged and two hundred impaled. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ,23 
 
 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 Khmyehiitsld 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 Bey's 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 I have already lost enough 1 eys and men on your 
 account, at Zolta Woda and at Korsun. Why 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 ASD .STTOffO. 
 
 battle. I would rather send the Chambuls out after booty 
 and prisoners, I have already done enough 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 mel" 
 
 "So I did, but I swore to fight together with you, not in- 
 stead of you. Take j'ourself off!" 
 
 "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 ilurza'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. Eaging with anger, Khmyel- 
 nitski returned to his quarters and, in his despair, stretched 
 out his hand for the bottle; but VyhovsM 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 
 fin 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. Xow is no time for drinking; but 
 you just hammer the iron while it is hot — for now you mav 
 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." 
 
 'TTou have a good head," said KhmyelnitsM, "let the bells 
 ring to call the council; and say to the colonels on the square 
 that I am coming immediately." 
 
WITH PIBE AND SWORD. ,35 
 
 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 
 Nosaeh, 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 kaown 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 pimished, 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 until 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 I 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 nohleman 
 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 fealtj' 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- 
 quenth' 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 dovm 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 
 
WITB FIRE AND 8W0BD. ,27 
 
 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 Charnota. 
 
 "Silence, silence! you are yourself a dog-believer." 
 
 "You traitors, to death with you!" 
 
 "To death with yourself!" 
 
 "Silence, read on! Eead! 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 
 Eussia, 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 officers 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, 
 as at the roaring of a lion but, before this happened, Kshe- 
 
328 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 chovski had sprang upon a bench, waved his blmch of plumes 
 and roared with a voice of thunder: 
 
 "Herding cattle suits you better than holding a council, 
 jou 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 
 sUeuee 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, 
 v.ith his quick wit, readily understood that he must obtain 
 now or never, from the Commonwealth, the starostships and 
 dignities of which he dreamed. He understood weU 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 Cracow would then not be able to make any 
 opposition, for he was 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 I 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. "V\Tiy 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 
 
WITS FIRE AND 8W0BD. 339 
 
 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 Korsun 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- 
 termined 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 
 Eoyal Majesty." 
 
 AH was quiet in the council chamber. Khmyelnitski took 
 breath and continued: 
 
330 T^ITB FIRE AXD 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 de\-Ll who is the Father of lies. If I 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 Lord Yoyevoda of Bratslav. But in 
 order that he, this devil's son, maj- 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 Yishnyov}'etski"s enmity and attacks." 
 
 A dep silence reigned in the council chamber. 
 
 Elhmyelnitski continued: 
 
 "YThoever, therefore, among you, wishes to tmdertake 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 victorv over him." 
 
 iSTot 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 eves. 
 Yyhovski's face took on an expression of Satanic vrickedness. 
 
 "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 Yasilov, 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 FIBE AND SWOBD. ^31 
 
 Where 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 taS 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. I 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 I. 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 Khmyelnitski. 
 
 "Yes, 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. Khmyelnitski 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 
 'T)lacks." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Kshyvonos marched from Alotserkva, passed through 
 Skvira and Pohrebysheh towards Malchnovka 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 Pohrebysheh and the bloody 
 baptism which Colonel Baranovski has given to Niemierov 
 the army destroyed several large detachments of Cossacks 
 and pitched camp near Eaygrod, 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 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 his soldiers. He was liTing therefore, in a single room, 
 through whose narrow door the Voyevoda of Kiev could not 
 pass on aecoTint 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 
 simplicit)' 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. He was surprised that such a great mind could 
 live amid such simplicity and discomfort. He 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 Princt. Dominik "my friend," 
 and was even on confidential terms with the king, could not 
 approach Yishnyovyetski with such familiarity although the 
 prince had received him politely and was grateful to him 
 for his timel}' assistance. 
 
 "Sir Voyevoda," he said, "God be thanked that you have 
 come with some fresh men for I am already at my last 
 gasp." 
 
 "T 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! Pericuhtm in mora! Some ten 
 thousand vagabonds 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 ilachnovka 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 soldio'rs, 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 swarmed into 
 the town with their families, and as the town is only pro- 
 tectedbyramparts 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." 
 
 "Eeady 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 WITE FIRE AND 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 come 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: 
 
 "Now 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 which 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. jjy 
 
 "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 Raygrod. 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 traces 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 necklaqe 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 both 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, "iih 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 SWORD. 
 
 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 doT\Ti as well as the grain; where the fire had not de- 
 stroyed the trees, the tongues of flame had burned ofE bark 
 and foliage, blackened them with smoke and left the trunks 
 standing like skeletons. The Yoyevoda of Eev 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 A'olodiyovski 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 Yoyevoda seized his head with both hands and repeated 
 piteously: 
 
 "My JIakhnovka! My Makhnovka! 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 ilakhnovka 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; taken 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 Yoyevoda, Pan Kryshtof and 
 Pan Aksak and two thousand men hastened to their relief. 
 The old Yoyevoda wanted to hold him back, for he had 
 completely lost his head. 
 
 "Makhnovka is lost. We shall be too late! Let us give 
 
WITH FIBB AND SWORD. j^Q 
 
 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 Bratslav 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 WITH FIRE AlfD SWORD. 
 
 "Pan Kryshtof, what kind of people are those," said the 
 Voyevoda. "With one move they are in battle order. They 
 coiild fight a battle without a leader." 
 
 The priaee, 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 Kne, three 
 regiments; one commanded by the Voyevoda of Eev 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 prince's 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 ait 
 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 heavj' 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, the 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. ,41 
 
 A shower of bullets fell on the soldiers but did no harm, 
 for they 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 "blacks," 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 
 "blacks" grow less. They seemed to melt beneath the shower 
 of blows; they disappeared; and, knocked over by the horses, 
 they 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 separated from the two wings of 
 the prince's army, scattered them like chaff. 
 
 The Voyevoda, marching over the corpses of the "blacks" 
 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 meet- 
 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 he 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 found his man, each sword, its sword. 
 The Vovevoda 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 WJTB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 savagely. He was lieutenant colonel of the Calmuck 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 animal's 
 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 Eaphael in the 
 throat and killed him on the spot. Thus fell the brothers 
 SiuAiitos, and lay, with their gilded shields, in the dust be- 
 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 oil. 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 blood, 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 Jvtynski and the two Xikehemnikh fell imder his 
 hand; the others began to draw back in terror, especially as 
 behind Burdabut gleamed a hundred more Zaporojian 
 swords and a hundred bloody lauces. The wild Zaporojian 
 leader finally perceived the Yoyevoda of Eaev, and, with a 
 tremendoiis shout of joy, he sprang towards him, overturning 
 horses and riders in his way. The VoyeToda. however, did 
 not retreat. Trusting in his enormous strength, he breathed 
 heavily, like a wounded wild boar, raised his sword above his 
 head, save his horse the spiir 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 Oksliei, 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 Toyevoda. In 
 
WITH PIRE AND SWORb. j^j 
 
 a moment, some ten men were on the spot, and separated him 
 from the Zaporojian, 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, ifche 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 tihey 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 forward, 
 the middle ranks overpowered by the Cossacks retreated to- 
 words the prince. Three new Cossack regimemts 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 seemed 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 figlht 
 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 Skshetuski, 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 
 
344 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 firelight, gazed upon the battle. Half of the Polish semi- 
 circle retreated slowly towards him overpowered by superior 
 strength, for Baranovski could not hold them any longer; 
 the same BaranoTsld who had conquered Xiemivor. The 
 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. Eiderless horses plunged 
 out of the crowd of eombaftants, 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. But 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 Ksh^-vonos 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. 
 
 'Torward," 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 conqiiering forces of Ksiiyvonos. 
 
 ''Yeremy! Yeremy!" shouted the hussars. 
 
 ''Yeremy!" was repeated by the whole army. 
 
 The dreaded name filled the hearts of the Zaporojians with 
 sudden terror. Xow for the firsit time they learned that it 
 was not the Vo^-evoda of Kiev, but the prince, himself, who 
 was eoromanding. 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 was to make a breach in 
 their ranks 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 were already protected by the 
 dragoons and by Yyersliul, Kushel and Poniatovski's light 
 cavalry, who, after they had driven back the Cossack wings, 
 forced their way to the center. Xow the order of the battle 
 was changed; for the light regiments lined up at two sides and 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. ^45 
 
 sort of formed at once a roadway, between which the hussars 
 flew at mad speed; crushing men and horses, 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 sur- 
 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 saAv 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. Vyershul 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 mom'ent, 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 Kuahel 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 witih 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! masiters," 
 sounded ever more piteously; but compassion did not exist in 
 
3^6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 that mass of combatants. The fiery flames alone lighted 
 them, as the sun through a storm. 
 
 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 bod}-, 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 off Zokolski's head, together with liis helmet, and then he 
 overthrew Priam and Tsertovich with their horses. There 
 was more room. Young Zenobuish made a slash at his head; 
 but the sword slipped from liis 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!" xVnd 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 liis 
 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 "He is possessed!" But 
 anger raged in his breast at the sight of so much carnage. He 
 ground his teeth and oharged, snorting with rage, upon the 
 Zaporojian leader. They came upon each other with such 
 force that their horses reared. The swords cvit 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 crushed hand drop and, seizing him 
 by the neckj forced his head down to the saddle tree; with 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. j^y 
 
 his left hand he grasped the baton 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 Longdn, fighting 
 furiously, 'cut cowl' and adorned with Anna's scarf. On the 
 day after the baittle, 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 baittle 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 
 Vyershul did, when he got into the town, was to set free a 
 number of noblemen who had defended themselves in the 
 cif;adel. 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 WITH 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. 
 
 "^Vhy," said the prince, "do you wish to spare the enemy, 
 when you 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 Yoyevoda, "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 
 stands 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. "This slaughter 
 will come to an end; then old Kshyvonos will come and burn 
 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 I 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 woiild he 
 fitted for it; and yet, it is perhaps better that you shovdd not 
 have it; for you woidd 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, SkshetusM came up in haste and said: 
 
 "Your Highness, news from the old Kshyvonos." 
 
 The prince's thoughts were immediately directed in an- 
 other channel and his anger against the Voyevoda disap- 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^g 
 
 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 Eussia. 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 as 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 Eussia, 
 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 
 
 WITH FIRE AND 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 Kaerdeys witnessed his distress. The prince placed his 
 hand over his e3'es, 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. God, let me 
 die, I repeat, for we can no longer Uve in the world who feel 
 the dishonor of the mother country and bring our lives to 
 her as a sacrifice." 
 
 The Yoyevoda of Kiev was silent. Pan Kshyshtof, how- 
 ever, spoke after a short 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 
 
WITH Fl&tl AND SWORD. 35, 
 
 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 
 fight with their tongues, we will continue to fight with our 
 swords." 
 
 "So bo it," ans\/ered the prince, "my heart is breaking at 
 the thought of what ■"'e ought now to do. When we heard 
 of the misfortune 01 our country, did we not march through 
 wild forests, through impissahle 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, oni . 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 earnest 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: 
 
352 
 
 WITH fIRB AND SWOBD. 
 
 "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 lahors and fatigues. . . " 
 
 "From disobedience came all the evils of this Conunon- 
 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 Khmyekiitski with a rope around our necks, should 
 we also obey him?" 
 
 "A'eto," said Pan Kshyshtof, the sub-judge of Bratslav. 
 
 "^'eto," repeated Kierdey. 
 
 The prince turned to his colonels. 
 
 "Speak, old soldiers," he said. 
 
 ZptsviHkhovski spoke first. 
 
 "My Prince, I am seventy years old, I am an Orthodox Rus- 
 sian; I was a Cossack commissary. Eimyelnitski, himself, 
 called me father. I ought to counsel negotiations, but if I 
 must decide between disgrace or war, going as I 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. 
 
 "^-ar! 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. 
 
CHAPTEE 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 that they were like a 
 sword in the hands of its commander. Both regimeiits 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 
 33 
 
354 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 for both belonged to the command of Prince Dominik Zas- 
 laTsM and had special orders not to unite with VishnyoTjetski. 
 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 exliausted his regiments -vvere 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 the, 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- 
 vcnos'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 ilshyniets. 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 stai^. 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 SWORD. ^cr 
 
 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." 
 
 Ajthough 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. 
 
 "Hey," said the forester, suddenly, "it seems as if there 
 might be a crowd of men there. Eemain 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 AlfD SWOBD. 
 
 accustomed to stealthy attacks went forward, wolf fashion, 
 without snorting or neighing. ^Vhen 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 his back to the rocky 
 wall and towards Skshetuski, sat a stout gra3'beard 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 Holota." 
 "No," cried another, "sing of ilarusia (Mary) Boguslavka." 
 "To the devil with ilarusia! 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 mercifal. 
 All our deeds He weighs in his balance upriehtly 
 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 sighed, 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 nUE 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, thou who makest war 
 With arrow and bow, with powder ball and Sword 
 For in olden times also lived warriors and knights. 
 Who carried the sword and died through the sword ! 
 Stand and observe round thee and give up thy pride, 
 Thou, from Potoek, stridesi boldly to Slavuta 
 The innocent souls hast thou cruelly slain, 
 They own council art thou in Poland 
 And 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 WITB FIRE AJfD SWORD. 
 
 calamitous sound of battle. Some sought to flee across the 
 precipitous wall of the raviae. 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. 
 
 TVhen 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, "I am a nobleman, loquor 
 latine! (I speak Latin.) I am not a dziad; stop, I tell you! 
 Bobbers! Eascals! 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 ^-ild 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: 
 
 "Where 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 jojrful 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 rock\- 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 stretched out 
 dead. 
 
WITH FIBE AND SWORD. g^g 
 
 The battle was over; the noise ceasedj 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 SlavosheTska 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?" 
 
 "Eh; 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 WITE FIRE AND 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 ofE 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?" 
 
 "Eemembers 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 
 beaiitifully." 
 
 Skshetuski was speechless with joy. A thousand thoughts 
 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 Eozloga, immediately before his departure 
 for Sieh. Pretty, slender, blushing, with her velvety black 
 eyes with their irresistible fascination. Now it seemed to 
 him as thoush 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 
 
WITB FIRB AND BWORD. jgj 
 
 prophecied that she would have twelve sods. 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?" 
 
 "I 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 XITL 
 
 One can easily understand how the prince received the 
 news of Osinsk's and Korytski's refusal, which SkshetusM 
 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 enormous fortune in maintaining 
 the army, in vain Uke a caged lion, did he hurl 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 
 o^vn powerlessness; 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 woidd 
 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 ilakhnovka, 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 Yolhynian Polesia — finally the 
 refusal of the colonels showed clearly the unfriendly attitude 
 of the Commander-in-chief Prince Dominik Zaslavski Os- 
 362 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 363 
 
 trogski towards Vishnyovyetski; and during Skshetuski's ab- 
 sence Pan Korsh Zienkovieh 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 flee were cut do^vn; 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 Kshy- 
 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 8W0BD. 
 
 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 Kliymelnitski, 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 himsell 
 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 SWOBD. 365 
 
 "Euin 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 may yet be of service to the Com- 
 monwealth." 
 
 The prince was silent. After a few moments, he turned to 
 his officers. 
 
 "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. 
 
 "I 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 suffering 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 go?" 
 
366 WITB FIRE AND 8W0Bt>. 
 
 "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 Yoyevoda 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 oifering 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 weU-discipUned 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 Thirtj- Years' War. Wlien I saw 
 them I imagined I saw Eoman legions before me." 
 
 "^Tiafs 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 hea^ 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, for that is 
 also very important." 
 
 "I had some prisoners. . . . but — " 
 
 "But you have killed them? What?" 
 
 "No, your Highness, I let them go free." 
 
 Yeremy looked at Skshetuski in astonishment; then he 
 suddenly frowned: 
 
 "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 Skshetuslri, 
 
 "She lives; she is well?" 
 
368 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Thank God she is." 
 
 "And where did she find refuge?" 
 
 "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 aceount, he felt anew that he would be ready to 
 spring into the flames 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 shaU 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 
 Tyersliul. The Voj'evoda 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 Eussia who were there. It 
 cannot be possible." 
 
 "Xot 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 Yyershul: 
 
 "Whither are they marching from Polonna? Is nothing 
 known." 
 
WITH FIRE AND t tVORD. 369 
 
 "It seems they are going to Konstantinov." 
 "God in heaven! Then Osinski's and Korytski's regiments 
 are lost, for they eanmot 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 him. 
 
 24 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 The army passed by Konstantinov and halted in Eosolovtsa. 
 
 The prince had calculated that when Korytski and Osinski 
 should receive news of the taking of Polonna, they would be 
 obliged to retreat to Eosolovtsa 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 
 certain 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 
 all sides from the camp. The prince remained in the village 
 with several regiments and waited. . Towards evening 
 Vyershul's Tartars announced that infantry were comilig 
 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 Yishnyovyetski and his stately suite of knights, 
 they became confused, as they were uncertain how they 
 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." 
 
 'TTour 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 tihem. 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 OzinsM, "but 
 it no longer binds us; for the only help and safety for our 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 371 
 
 army lie in your Highness's 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 tUan 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 prince's 
 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 miirmur 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-b\iilt, 
 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 Sitaffs in the air; the ensign waved the flag three 
 times and then lowered it before the prince. "Forward," 
 cried Osinski. 'Torward," repeated the officers and the regi- 
 ment moved forward. 
 
 In the same manner or even in better form, did Korvtski 
 lead forward 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 
 fortificaition," said Sleshinski. "But these fellows carry off 
 the palm, they are better drilled."' 
 
 "Bah! much better,*' said Migursld. 
 
 "But they are heavy men," said Vyershul. "If they should 
 attack me, I would tmdertake, with my Tartars, to make 
 them so weary in two days that on the third day I could 
 slaughter them Uke 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 otir 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. ,-, 
 
 "He has attacked him like a horseleech," said Skshetuski, 
 laughing. 
 
 Pan fodbipyenta blinked his eyes and said with his accus- 
 tomed good nature: 
 
 "That is unpleasant 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 seitting 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 best 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, 'Pferd.' 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 Eiver 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 means fie, or pshaw. 
 
374 WITH FIRE A-YZ) STTOfiD. 
 
 It proved to be a royal cavalry regiment eommander, Samuel 
 Lasheh, 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, who 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 Toyevoda 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 comited 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 Lasheh, the Voyevoda of Kiev, Zatzvilikhovski, Maknit- 
 ski, and Osinski and they took counsel regarding the continu- 
 ation of the war. It was resolved to give battle to E^hyvonos 
 on the following morning; and, if he should not advance, to 
 go and meet him. 
 
 It was alread}' dark but. since the last rainfall which had 
 annoyed the army so dreadfully, at ilakhnovka, 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 Eosolovski. 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 roimd 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 liumida coelo praecipitat 
 
 Suadentque sidera cadenfia somnos 
 
 Sed si tantits 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 suffi- 
 
WlfH FIRE AiJb 8W0RD. -ye 
 
 eient 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 aU the mysteries 
 of witchcraft; but I could not bewitch all of them for I found 
 my master. Magicians and witches were swarming around 
 Khmyelnitski. He 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 ofE 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 'blacks' 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 WITU FIRE A2fO SWORD. 
 
 again that the people in Bar could not take their eyes off her. 
 There were many pretty girls there, for the nobility has col- 
 lected there from aU 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 Yolo- 
 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 PoniatowsH 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 woidd 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 imtil 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 Yinnits 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 awav 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." 
 
 "What was it. Tell us?" 
 
 "I met some drunken soldiers, wild people, who heard me 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8\¥0RD. ,-- 
 
 call the princess 'Panna,' 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. I 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. ]3ut 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 ofiicers. 
 
 "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- 
 
378 WITH FIRS AND 8W0BD. 
 
 ness reigned in the csimp. 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, emd, finally, the heavy rolling of VurtseFs gun car- 
 riages. From time to time, the clatter of muskets or the 
 sound of command was heard. It seemed ominous, uncanny 
 to march thus under 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 Eosolovtsa the cocks were beginning to crow and 
 to call and answer each other all over the town. Eosolovtsa 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, the 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, Turtzel'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 the approaching battle. 
 
 "Pan Skshetuski," he said gently, as though he feared 
 some one was listening. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 'TVill 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? 
 agked, "Is it Kahyvonos with his whole aimy?" 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^yg 
 
 "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, 
 "hut 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 me, I would rather my body was some- 
 where else. . . . Fie, fie, I do not like these 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 I've 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, ye portals of salvation!" 
 
380 WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 The mighty sound rescranded 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. 
 Eegiment 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 Uke a town in motion. The creaking of thou- 
 sands of carriages and the neighing of horses reached even 
 the ears of the prince's 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 Elhymelnitski himself with the "blacks" 
 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 on. May the devil 
 take them. j\Iay they be surged into hell! And all those 
 who are against us. ]\Iay 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 Xoster, qui est in coelis. . . One cannot ex- 
 pect any respect from this pack. . . . Sanetifieetur 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 artillerj'," said Skshetuski. "Soon our men 
 will go to meet them." 
 
 '^m 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 Hfe was in danger." 
 
 "As I told you, we are accustomed to it." 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. -gl 
 
 "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 
 a long line of VolodiyoTski'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 
 
CHAPTEE 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 on! Come on! We shall soon feed the dogs on 
 your carrion," cried the prince's soldiers. 
 
 "Yours is not good enough for the dogs!" 
 
 "You will rot in this fish pond, contemptible knaves!" 
 
 "Whoever is ordained to rot here will do so. The fiish will 
 immediately eat you." 
 
 "To the dung heap with your pitch forks, peasant fools! 
 They suit you better than the sword does."' 
 
 'T.i we are common peasants our sons will be nobles for 
 they will be brought into the world by your daughters." 
 
 A Cossack, e%'idently from the Dnieper country, stepped 
 forward and held his hands to his mouth and cried ia a 
 powerful voice: 
 
 "The prince has two nieces. Tell him to send them to 
 Kshyvonos." 
 
 VolodiyoTski 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 fight wing of the hussars and cried to Zagloba: 
 
 "Look; Look! Volodiyovski is runing, Yolodiyovski 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 Tolodiyovski 
 from the side, but his horse stumbled just at the moment 
 382 
 
WITH PIBE AND SWORD. gg, 
 
 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 eomand 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 ^I^B fflBE AND SWORB. 
 
 "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-treneher with him for he 
 had reserved it for a higher purpose than single combat. He 
 had left it in the care of a servant who had remained behind 
 with the rear guard. He had only a slender sword with a 
 bluish blade ornamented with gold tracery. Pulyan stood the 
 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 his 
 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, Longin's 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, mufiied 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. 
 
 With Fire and Sivord. 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 385 
 
 had happened, he threw him across his own horse and gal- 
 loped' back to his men. 
 
 "Viva!" shouted VishnyoTyetski'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 glo'omy between 
 the two armies. A light wind rufiied 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 Kshyvonos' 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 prince's 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 
 
 WITff FIRE AND SWO&D. 
 
 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 MakhnitsM: 
 
 "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 Vurtzers 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 OsinsM. 
 
 It was at once evident to a soldier, upon which side the 
 victory must incline, and only a mad leader of the bands, 
 like Ksli}'^'onos would undertake a battle under such circum- 
 stances. With all the strength he possessed he 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 Ksby- 
 vonos whom nothing obliged to take this mad step. 
 
 Xothing 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 FIBE AND SWORD. -g- 
 
 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, "artifice 
 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 WITB FIRE AND 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, 
 so it is." 
 
 Then he grew perfectly furious. 
 
 "Thieves," he cried, "do you dare oppose the nobles, and 
 he dashed among the fugitives, passed 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 Xij people towards the bank of the Slueh, 
 which was thickly grown with trees, and had driven them 
 along the bank to the ditch without faking one of them 
 prisoner. They had no time for that. 
 
 Suddenly Zagloba remarked that his horse was quaking 
 under 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 aU 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 weight 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? 
 
 "Let go, villain," he cried in a choked voice. 
 
WITH FIBE AND 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, 
 feU 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. A'urtsel 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. Kshwonos raged and 
 foanaed, 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: 
 
 '^e will not take the tabor to-day." 
 
 "lATiat? 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 8W0BD. jgi 
 
 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. Death 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 vnll kill them all," repeated Kshyvonos. 
 "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." 
 
 "I 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 courage, 
 which prefers to hide itself behind its own modesty," 
 
392 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 A hardly perceptible smile played over Skshetaski'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." 
 
 Xight 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 sk)-. The weary soldiers refreshed themselves 
 with food and gorzalka or, through the recital of the dajr'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. 
 
 "T tell you, sirs,"' he said, turning to the prince's officers 
 and to the noblemen of Tyshkj^evieh's company. "Great bat- 
 tles are nothing to me. I 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 
 Yyershul fall from his horse, I wanted immediately to rush 
 to his assistance, ily comrades held me back with difficulty." 
 
 "That is true,"' said Skshetuski. "AYe had to hold you by 
 the arm." 
 
 "But," interrupted Karvich, "where is Yyershul?" 
 
 "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 Yyershul 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 Azulevieh, 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!" 
 
 "ISTot such a great warrior, a Pulyan (half a jolm) was 
 enough for him," 
 
Wits FIRE AND SWORi). ^^, 
 
 "Pshaw! One cannot talk in peace to these men. You 
 might have learned from me how 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 KhmyelP^ Who cares anything for 
 Khmyel here. We laugh at- Khmyel," gabbled Zagloba, let- 
 ting hi? 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 Makhnovka 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 
 
 ' Khmyel— hops. 
 
394 ^ITS 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 I"' 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 onl}^ 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, pulUng 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 would 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 SWOBD. 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 become 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 ^blacks' have 
 increased 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 WITH 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 wiU 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, ily 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 MyshyMshek." 
 
 "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?" 
 
 "Vyershul," 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?" 
 
WiTB PIRE AND SWORD. 3^7 
 
 "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 Xij and the 
 "blacks" saw that, they broke their ranks in order to follow 
 him and STirround 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 artiller}' 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 Yurtsel'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 'Tjlacks" 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 KhmyelnitsM. He fled, therefore, with the remain- 
 ing half of his camp-train: decimated, beaten, reduced to 
 despair, and did not halt until he reached Maklaonovka. 
 When he arrived here, Khmyelnitski, in his first moment of 
 anger, commanded that Kshyvonos should be chained to a 
 cannon, 
 
 398 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 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 Sksheftu- 
 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 "blacks" 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 Tarnopol. 
 
 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 asleep 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 
 
40O 
 
 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 eyes of his soul. First it seemed to him as though he were ia 
 Lubni; as though he had never left it; as though he were 
 sleeping ia 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 iu 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? \\Tiat 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 see 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, 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!" 
 
 "Well, 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. .qj 
 
 Patro'nius Lasko, who took me to Khmyelnitski at Hushch, 
 for the Voyevoda had' sent him with a letter to Khmyelnitski, 
 so 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 ben'ef actor. ..." 
 
 "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 Eozloga 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, . . . . " 
 
 "You rowed, rowed!" interrupted Skshetuski impatiently. 
 
 "And arrived in Chigrin. What happened there, you al- 
 ready know." 
 
 "I know all about it." , 
 
 "I was lying in the stable then, and could not see God's 
 
 36 
 
402 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 beautiful world. Along came Kiunyelnitski, 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 
 iQ the town were killed and wounded, they thought that I 
 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. '\Mien I came to myself, I thought, what 
 should I do? And this villain had, meanwhile, gone to Kor- 
 sun and had beaten the hetmans there. Oh, master! "WTiat 
 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. 
 Wlien 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 flill 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 Eoz- 
 loga, here it is. I think it is right to give it back, for I did 
 not get to Eozloga." 
 
 Then he loosened his belt, drew forth a purse and laid it 
 down before the knight. Skshetuski, however, smiled and 
 said: 
 
 "If you hav« 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 FIBS AND SWOBn. 403 
 
 and also my grandfather, who is ninety years old; and the 
 Yavorskis will spend their last penny in the lawsuit and 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! 60 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 Cherkass, 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 Chigrin?' '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 Eozloga 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." 
 
 "Was he ill long?" 
 
404 
 
 WlfE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "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 hfe 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 wiU 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, 'ShaU 
 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 
 owTied 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. '\Mien she laughed you could 
 have sworn that a mare was whinnying in the meadow. She 
 showed her white teeth and they were so strong that they 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. .q- 
 
 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! Huku! 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 Eozloga 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 8W0BD. 
 
 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 Bratsla\ when the leaders 
 should come together. . . May the devil light him home! So 
 I came to'Husheh, 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 
 tilings 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 coward it would not be you. I was only asking; for, 
 when I have taken home what I have collected to my parents, 
 I would like to go with you. Perhaps God will help me to 
 pay back Bohun for what he did to me, as I cannot do it by 
 treachery, where should I find him but in the field? He will 
 not be able to hide himself." 
 
 "How determined a fellow you are?" 
 
 "Let each one carry out wliat he has undertaken. As I 
 have undertaken to do so, I will follow him, even to Turkey. 
 It cannot be otherwise. Now, I will go with you to Tarnopol, 
 then to the wedding. But why do you go to Bar by way of 
 Tarnopol? That does not lie in your way." 
 
 "I must lead my regiments." 
 
 "I understand, my master." 
 
 "And now bring me something to eat," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "I was thinking already that the stomach was the chief 
 thing." 
 
 '^e will set out immediately after breakfast." 
 
 "Well, thank God, although my nag is frightfully worn 
 out." 
 
 "I will give you a pack-horse, upon which you may ride 
 from now out." 
 
 "I thank you most humbly," said Jendzian, and smiled 
 contentedly at the thought, that counting the purse and the 
 girdle, he had already received a third present. 
 
CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 Skshetuski rode at the head of the prince's regiments to 
 Zbaraj, not to Tarnopol; for a new command had been given 
 to go thither. And on the road he related to his faithful 
 servant an aeconnt of his own adventures: how he had been 
 taken prisoner in Sich, how he had remained there some time; 
 what he had suffered, before Khmyelnitski set him free. 
 They moved forward slowly, although they had neither wag- 
 ons nor baggage with them; but the road led through such a 
 devastated country that it was with the greatest difficulty that 
 they could get. any provisions for men and horses. Here and 
 there, they came across crowds of famishing people, espe- 
 cially women with children who prayed God for death, yes, 
 even for captivity among the Tartars; so that, although in 
 chains, they might have something to eat. And this was the 
 time of harvest in this fruitful land, flowing with milk and 
 honey. But Kshyvonos advance guards had destroyed every- 
 thing that could be destroyed; and the remaining inhabi- 
 tants lived on the bark of trees. It was not until they reached 
 the vicinity of Yampol that the soldiers came to a country 
 that had not been so completely destroyed by war and, as 
 they now had better resting places and more provisions, they 
 went by forced marches to Zbaraj and arrived there five days 
 after lea^y^ing Sukhojints. 
 
 An enormous crowd of people had collected in Zbaraj. 
 Prince Yeremy halted here with his entire force and, besides 
 these, a number of soldiers and noblemen had come to the 
 place. The air was full of rumors of war. N'othing else was 
 talked about. The town and the neighborhood were alive 
 with armed men. The peace party in Warsaw, whose hopes 
 were continually being raised by Pan Kisiel, the Voyevoda of 
 Bratslav had, in fact, not yet given up the negotiations and, 
 still believed that the storm could be laid peacefully; but 
 they understood one thing that the negotiations could have 
 no result, unless a mighty army stood ready at their call. The 
 Diet convened amid those threatenings of war which usually 
 
 407 
 
4oS WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 
 
 precede an outbreak. The general militia was smnmoned; the 
 regular troops were gathered together and, although the chan- 
 cellor and the commanders still believed in peace, the nobility 
 was dominated by a desire for war. The victories which Vish- 
 nyovyetski had gained excited their imagination. Their minds 
 were filled with a thirst for revenge on the peasantry and 
 with a desire to atone for the Zolta Woda, for Korsun, for 
 the blood of so many thousands who had died the death of 
 martyrs and endured disgrace and humiliation. The name 
 of the terrible prince shone in the sunlight of glory — ^it was 
 in all mouths, in all hearts and, coupled with this name, in the 
 same breath, rang, from the shores of the Black Sea to the 
 Wild Lands the calamitous cry, '-War!" 
 
 War! War! The signs in the heavens foretold it, and the 
 glowing faces of the soldiers, the glitter of the swords, the 
 nightly howl of dogs before the cabins, the neighing of horses, 
 who scented blood, "War." All titled people who bore arms 
 in all lands, districts, and settlements, hunted up their old 
 armor and swords from the store houses. The youths sang 
 songs about Yeremy and the women prayed at the altars. 
 Armed men surared hither and thither, in Prussia as in 
 Livonia, in Great Poland as in the swarming ^Mazovia. even to 
 the divine summits of the Tatsha and the black forest of 
 Bashkia. 
 
 War lay in the force of circumstances. The plundering at- 
 titude of the Zaporojians and the insurrection of the Ukraine 
 '^blacks" required higher watchwords than robbery and mur- 
 der, than war against serfdom and the greed of the magnates. 
 Khmyelnitski well understood this, and profiting by the pent 
 up irritation caused by reciprocal ill-treatment and oppres- 
 sion, of which there was no lack in those sad times; and he 
 made use of this knowledge and transformed his social strug- 
 gle into a religious one, fanned the fanaticism of the people, 
 and from the very beginning had formed an abyss between the 
 two camps— an abyss that neither parchment nor negotiations 
 but only blood could fill. 
 
 And if he sincerely wished negotiations, it was only in 
 order to secure himself and his own power; and then let come, 
 what may, the hetman of the Zaporojians cared not. He did 
 not look into the future, it troubled him little. 
 
 He did not know, however, that the abyss that he had 
 created had become so great that no negotiations could fill it, 
 not even in the time that Khmyelnitski would give it. The 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 409 
 
 keen politician did not understand that he would not be able 
 to enjoy in peace, the bloody fruits of his life. 
 
 And it was easy to see that yonder, where armed hundreds 
 of thousands stood opposed to each other the parchment on 
 which treaties would be written would be the held of battle, 
 and the pens would be the swords and lances. 
 
 Thus, events, through the" force of circumstances, com- 
 pelled the war, and even commonplace people who only fol- 
 lowed their instincts, discerned that it could not be other- 
 wise. And over the whole Commonwealth all eyes were ever 
 more turned to Yeremy, who had, from the beginning pro- 
 claimed a war of life and death. In the shadow of this 
 gigantic form, gradually disappeared the chancellor and 
 Voyevoda of Bratslav and the commanders, and among them 
 the mighty Prince Dominik, who had been made commander- 
 in-chief. Their authority, their importance vanished, and the 
 respect for the offices they held, diminished. The army and 
 the nobility were commanded to assemble near Lemberg and 
 then near Gliniani and fresh troops continually joined them. 
 The regular troops arrived, followed by the country people 
 from the neighboring Vyevodstvas (provinces), new events 
 began to threaten the authority of the Commonwealth. Not 
 only the less disciplined regiments of the militia, not only 
 the private regiments, but, even the regular troops, when they 
 had gathered at the place of meeting, refused obedience to the 
 Commander and in defiance of orders marched to Zbaraj in 
 order to place themselves under the command of Prince 
 Yeremy. The Voyevoda of Kiev and Bratslav, whose nobles 
 had already served in large numbers under Yeremy followed 
 their example. Then came those at Euss and Lubelsk, and 
 these were followed by the royal army; and it was no longer 
 difficult to prophecy that all others would follow their ex- 
 ample. 
 
 Yeremy, who had been intentionally overlooked and forgot- 
 ten, had through the power of circumstances become the 
 hetman and commander-in-chief of all the fighting- strength 
 of the Commonwealth. The nobility and the soldiers were 
 devoted to him, body and soul, and only waited for his nod. 
 All power, war, peace, the future of the Commonwealth lay 
 in his hands. 
 
 Yeremy's authority increased from day to day. For every 
 day new regiments joined him and he grew to such gigantic 
 stature that his shadow began to fall, not only on the chau," 
 
^lO WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 cellor and the Commander of the army, but also upon the 
 Senate, upon Warsaw and upon the whole Commonwealth. 
 
 In the circles of the chancellor at Warsaw which was un- 
 favorable to him; in the camp of the commanders among 
 those that surrounded Prince Dominik and the Yoyevoda of 
 Bratslav, the conversation turned on his boldness and his am- 
 bition. They recalled the old affair of Hadziach; when the 
 bold prince, with four thousand men, had come to Warsaw 
 and stepped into the Senate chamber, as if he was ready to 
 cut them all down, the king himself not excepted. 
 
 "What can one expect from such a man, and what must 
 he be now," they saidj "after the bold Xenophon-like march 
 from the other side of the Dnieper; after aU his marches and 
 victories, that have brought him such unbounded glory. Wliat 
 tremendous pride must he not feel in the love of the soldiery 
 of the nobles! ^Tio would dare withstand him to-day? Wliat 
 would happen to the Commonwealth if a citizen should 
 gather such power that he could trample the will of the 
 senate under his feet; who could vrrest the power from the 
 leaders appointed by the Commonwealth? Does he really 
 intend to put Prince Charles on the throne? He is a Marius, 
 it is true; but God grant that he may not develop into a 
 Marcus Coriolanus or a Cataline, for he resembles them both 
 in pride and ambition." 
 
 This was the talk in Warsaw and among the officers, and 
 especially at the court of Prince Dominik, whose rivalry with 
 Yeremy had already caused no slight harm to the Common- 
 wealth. Yonder Marius, however, remained meanwhile in 
 Zbaraj, gloomy, impenetrable; his newly gained victory did 
 not light up his countenance. If any new regiment from the 
 regulars or any district militia from the general army came to 
 Zbaraj, he rode to meet them, took in their strength at a 
 glance, and returned again to his brooding. The soldiers 
 crowded round his quarters with cheers; fell on their knees 
 before him and cned; '^e greet thee, thou invincible com- 
 mander, Slavonic Hercules! We will give our lives for thee!" 
 He, however, answered: "I thank you, we are all under 
 Christ's command and my rank is too low for me to be the 
 disposer of your life." And then he retired into his own 
 quarters, fled from every one, and wrestled with his thoughts 
 in solitude. 
 
 Thus days passed. In the meantime, the town was surging 
 yrJth fresh swarms of soldiery. The Comiaoiiwealth soldiers 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^jj 
 
 drank from morning till night, roamed about the streets, 
 made disturbances, and quarrelled with the strange officers. 
 The regular troops who also felt that the reins of discipline 
 were a little slackened gave themselves to drinking, to enjoy- 
 ment and to throwing dice. Strangers arrived daily, and 
 there were daily new festivities and amusements, with the 
 citizens' daughters. The soldiers lined all the streets and 
 slept in the neighboring villages. And what a variety of 
 horses, armor, costumes, plumes, caparisons, hangings, and 
 colors of various provinces! One might have believed it was 
 a general carnival to which half the Commonwealth had gath- 
 ered together. Sometimes a nobleman's carriage came along, 
 colored with gold and crimson and drawn by six or eight 
 horses with plumes of feathers on their heads. Pajuks, 
 dressed in Hungarian or German fashion, Janissaries, Cos- 
 £ -cks, Tartars; at another time, officers would ride into the 
 town dressed in silk and velvet, without armor, pushing the 
 crowd aside as they sat erect on their Anatolian or Persian 
 horses. Their aigrettes and brooches gleamed in the firelight 
 with diamonds and rubies, and all stepped out of the way 
 out of respect. Yonder, in the hall of the court, an officer of 
 the country infantry appears, in a fresh glittering doublet, 
 with his long staff in his hand; pride in his face and his citi- 
 zen's heart in his breast. Yonder gleamed the crested helmets 
 of dragoons, the caps of German infantry, the wooden lances 
 of the militia, in lynx-skin caps. Servants rush hither and 
 thither in the most diverse colors fulfilling their duties. Here 
 and there the street was blocked by carriages. Yonder some 
 carriages came along, creaking unmercifully. Everywhere 
 one heard servants calling "Get out of the way," cursing, 
 wrangling, fighting, and the neighing of horses. The little 
 side streets are filled with hay and straw so as to be almost 
 impassable. 
 
 And in the midst of these gaudy costumes which shone in 
 all colors of the rainbow; in the midst of the velvet and silk, 
 the laces and buckles; amidst the glitter of diamonds, how 
 strange Vishnyovyetski's men looked! Worn out, in ragged 
 clothes, in rusty armor, faded and torn uniforms. The sol- 
 diers of the crack regiment looked like beggars, worse than 
 the servants of other regiments; and, yet, all bowed before 
 these rags, before these tatters and faded colors; for they 
 were the tokens of heroes. War is a cruel mother, she de- 
 vours her own children like Saturn, and those she does not 
 
.j2 ^VITM FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 devour, she gnaws as a dog does a bone. These faded colors 
 were evidence of heavy rainfalls at night, of marches in 
 storm, or burning sun. This rust on their armor, a token of 
 their own blood-stains or of the enemy's or both together. 
 They talked in the wine-shops, and soldiers quarters; the rest 
 listened to them and, often a convulsion seemed to seize one 
 of the Usteners and he would clap his hands on his thighs and 
 cry, "May the balls strike you! lou are devils, not men." 
 And Vishnyovyetski's men answered, "The merit is not ours 
 but our leader, whose equal the world has never yet pro- 
 duced." And then all concluded with a cry, "Vivat Yeremy, 
 Vivat the Voyevoda! The commander of commanders! The 
 hetman of hetmans! ....'' 
 
 And the nobleman drank and dashed out into the streets 
 and shot ofE guns and muskets; and when Vishnyovyetski's 
 men reminded them that this freedom would only last a short 
 while; for the time would come when the prince would take 
 them mto his hands, and discipline them as they had never 
 yet been disciplined, they enjoyed themselves with all the 
 more zest. 
 
 "Let us enjoy ourselves while we are free!"' they cried. 
 "When the time comes to obey we will obey, for we would 
 willingly be obedient to one who is not a dziecina, nor lacina, 
 nor pierzyna}" And t3ie unfortunate Prince Domini k came 
 off second best, for the tongues of the soldiers made mince- 
 meat of him. They related to one another how he prayed all 
 day long and that, in the evening, he would hang on to the 
 jug and dribble on his breast, and merely open his eyes and 
 ask, "Wh&i is that?" They also said that he took jalap at 
 night and that all the battles he saw were those worked in 
 his Dutch carpet. I>ro one stood up for him, no one pitied 
 him. And those who were in open discord with the military 
 discipline, were the ones who eondenmed him the most; but 
 Zagloba exceeded these in ridicule and sarcasm. He had re- 
 covered from his backache and was now qnite in his element. 
 Wliat he eat and drank is beyond description and would 
 hardly be believed. He was constantly surrounded by large 
 groups of soldiers and noblemen, and he talked and told 
 stories and ridiculed the very ones who treated him. As an 
 old soldier he also looked down with contempt on those who 
 were just taking service and was accustomed to say, with the 
 
 ' Play ui)on the rhymes bahy, Latin, yeather-quilt. 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. .... 
 
 413 
 
 whole weight of experience: "You know as much about the 
 fatigues of war as the nuns of a man. You have new clothes 
 that smell of lavender; and, although that is a pleasant odor, 
 I will endeavor in the first battle to keep to windward of 
 you. Whoever has not smelt the leek of war does not know 
 what tears it can squeeze out. Then you will not get your 
 hot beer in the morning, or your wine punch. Your bellies 
 will fall in; you will become dried up like curds in the sun. 
 You may believe me, experience is tho main thing, I have 
 been in so many dangers, yes — have taken so many flags, but I 
 must tell you this, gentlemen — none came so hard to me as 
 the one I took at Konstantinov. May the devil take these 
 Zaporojians! The sweat was streaming down me, before I 
 could grasp the flag staff. Ask Pan Skshetuski, he who killed 
 Burdabut. He saw it with his own eyes and was astonished. 
 But I tell you, now, you have only to scream into a Cossack 
 ear, 'Zagloba/ and you will see what he will answer. But why 
 do I tell you this, you, who have only killed the fliee on the 
 wall with a flipper, and nobody else." 
 
 "How is that? What?" asked the younger men. 
 
 "What? Oh, you want my tongue to take fire from constant 
 friction, like the hub of a wagon." 
 
 "You must lubricate it with wine," cried the noblemen. 
 
 "That's different," answered Zagloba. 
 
 And, gratified to have found appreciative listeners, he be- 
 gan to tell them all over again, from the beginning — about 
 the Journey to Galatz, and about the flight from Rozloga to 
 the taking of the flag at Konstantinov, and they listened with 
 open mouths. And though they demurred sometimes when, 
 in praising his own courage, he ridiculed their inexperience, 
 they nevertheless invited him every day to drink with them 
 in a different quarter. 
 
 Thus, they lived joyously and happily in Zbaraj; until old 
 Zatsvilikhovski and other earnest men began to wonder that 
 the prince could tolerate these carousals so long. He, how- 
 ever, remained continually in his quarters, evidently allowing 
 the soldiers to give themselves up to enjoyment, that they 
 might thoroughly enjoy life before undertaking fresh battles. 
 In the meantime, Skshetuski had returned and came into 
 the midst of all this, as into a whirlpool. He would have en- 
 joyed resting in the company of his comrades, but he would 
 rather have ridden to Bar, to his Beloved, where he could 
 forget all former sorrow, all fear and anxiety in her sweet 
 
414 WITB FIRE AJUD SWORD. 
 
 embrace. He went, therefore, without delay to the prince, 
 to give him aji aecoimt of his expedition to Zaslav and to 
 request permission to undertake another journey. 
 
 He found the prince so changed that he was hardly recog- 
 nizable and, at sight of him, Skshetuski started, and asked 
 himself, "Is this the leader whom I saw at Makhnovka and at 
 Konstantinov?" For, before him, there stood a man, bowed 
 with the weight of care, with hollow eyes and dry lips, as 
 though wasting with an internal complaint. To the inquiries 
 after his health, he answered curtly and dryly that he was in 
 good health, and the knight dared not ask any more. He 
 merely gave an account of his expedition and begged permis- 
 sion to be allowed to leave the regiment for two months in 
 order to get married and take his bride to Skshetusheva. 
 
 The prince seemed suddenly to wake from a dream. His 
 habitual kindness lighted up his clouded face; he drew 
 Skshetuski to him and said: 
 
 "Then your torture is at an end. Go; go and may Heaven 
 bless you. I wish I could attend your wedding, for I owe it 
 to young Panna Kurtsevich as the daughter of Vasil and to 
 you as my friend; but at this time it is not possible. When 
 will you go?" 
 
 "Your Highness, to-day if I may." 
 
 "Go to-morrow. You cannot travel alone. I will give you 
 three hundred of Yyershul's Tartars that you may take her 
 home in safety. You will get there sooner with these men 
 than with any others; and you need them, for it is swarming 
 with the mob over there. I will also give you a letter to Pan 
 Andrey Pototski; but, before I can write it, before the Tar- 
 tars come, before you have finished all your preparations, it 
 will be to-morrow evening." 
 
 "As your Highness commands; but I venture to request 
 permission that ^'olodiyovski and Podbipyenta also go with 
 me." 
 
 "Well, come again to-morrow that I may take leave of you 
 and give you my blessing. I should also like to send your 
 young princess some remembrance. You are a good fellow; 
 be happy, for you deserve each other. 
 
 "Skshetuski had sunk to the ground and clasped the knees 
 of his belovec' commander, who repeated several times: 
 
 "God give you his blessing! God give you his blessing! 
 Come again to-morrow." 
 
 But the knight did not rise and did not go away, as though 
 he yet wished to beg for something else. Finally he said: 
 
wtm PiBS Am SWORD. 415 
 
 "Your Highness." 
 
 "What have you to say to me now," asked the prince 
 kindly. 
 
 "Your Highness, pardon my boldness but . . . my heart 
 is breaking, my great sorrow gives me courage. What 
 troubles your Highness. Does any oare or sickness oppress 
 you." 
 
 The prince laid his hand upon the knight's head: 
 
 "You must not know," said he in the tenderest voice, 
 "come again to-morrow." 
 
 Skshetuski rose from the floor and went out with a pain 
 at his heart. 
 
 Towards evening, old Zatsvilikhovski came into his quar- 
 ters, and with him, little Volodiyovski, Pan Longin and Za- 
 globa. They sat down at the table and Jendzian brought" 
 goblets and a keg. 
 
 "In the name of the Father and the Son," cried Zagloba, 
 "I see your boy has risen from the dead." 
 
 Jendzian stepped up to him and clasped his knees. 
 
 "I did not rise from the dead; I did not die, for you saved 
 me.' ' 
 
 And Skshetuski added: 
 
 "And then he went into Bohun's service." 
 
 "Then he will be promoted in .hell," said Zagloba. Then 
 turning to Jendzian, "You could not have had much en- 
 joyment in that service. There, take a dollar to comfort 
 you." 
 
 "I thank you humbly," said Jendzian. 
 
 But Skshetuski called out: "He is a rascal, a great sharper. 
 He brought so much booty from the Cossacks that both of 
 us together could net buy it, even should you turn all your 
 possessions in Turkey into money." 
 
 "Is thatso," said Zagloba, "Well, keep my dollar and flourish 
 dear sapling until you are flt for — not the cross of Christ, 
 but a gallows. The boy has a bright eye." Here Zagloba 
 took Jendzian by the ear, pulled it gently and continued: 
 "I love rascals and I prophecy that you will yet be a man 
 if you do not remain a calf, and what does your master Bohun 
 say about me? AVTiat?" 
 
 Jendzian laughed. Zagloba's words and petting had flat- 
 tered him, and he answered: 
 
 "Oh, Sir, when he speaks of you, he strikes sparks by gnash- 
 ing his teeth." 
 
4i6, ^ITH PIBE AND SWOIfD. 
 
 "Go to the devil," cried Zagloba, in sudden anger. "What 
 axe you chattering about?" 
 
 Jendzian moved away. The others began to chat about 
 the following day's journey and the unspeakable happiness 
 that was awaiting Pan Yan. The mead put Zagloba into the 
 happiest humor and he began to tease Skshetuski, to talk 
 about baptism and then '^f Andrey Pototski's admiration for 
 the young princess. Pan Longin sighed. They drank and 
 were glad at heart until the conversation turned on the situa- 
 tion of the war and the prince's condition. Skshetuski, who 
 had not been in the camp for some days time, said: 
 
 "Tell me, gentlemen, what has happened to our Prince? 
 He is not the same man. I canot understand it. God has 
 given him victory on victory. What was the meaning of 
 ■their passing him by in the choice of a commander? The 
 consequence is, that the whole army is crowding under his 
 banner, so that he can become a hetman without anybody's 
 permission, and will destroy Khmyelnitski . . . And yet 
 some trouble is preying on him." 
 
 "Perhaps he is plagued with the gout,' "said Zagloba. "If 
 it pinches my big toe, I am melancholy for three days." 
 
 "And I tell you, little brother, "began Pan Longin shaking 
 his head, "I did not hear this myself from Father Makho- 
 vietski but I heard that he told somebody why the prince 
 was worried. I will not say anything, for he is a kind master, 
 a great and good warrior. I do not judge him but when the 
 priest — but what do I know!" 
 
 "Just look at this Lithuanian," cried Zagloba. "We shall 
 get the best of him if he does not speak a human language. 
 What do you mean? You go round in a circle like a hare 
 round her form and cannot hit the mark. 
 
 "What did you really hear?" asked Skshetuski. 
 
 "Well, if I must tell — they say he has shed too much 
 blood. He is a great commander but he knows no modera- 
 tion in punishment, and they say that he sees nothing but 
 red; red by day, red at night, as though a red cloud enveloped 
 him." 
 
 "Stop talking foolishness," broke in old Zatsvilikhovski, 
 angrily, "that is old woman's talk. The people have no better 
 master in times of peace; and, if he has no compassion on 
 the rebels, why is that? That is his duty, no sin. What 
 tortures, what punishment is too great for those who bathe 
 their country in blood; who deliver up their own people into 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 417 
 
 captivity to the Tartars; who will recognize no God, no 
 country, no authority. Where could you find me such 
 monsters, where such excruciating tortureS as those they 
 have inflicted on women and little children, where such 
 monstrous crimes? And you think that the stake and the 
 gallows are too severe a penalty. Tut! Tut! You have an- 
 iron hand, but a woman's heart. I heard how you groaned 
 when they were roasting Pulyan and you said you would 
 rather kill him outright. But the prince is no old woman — 
 he knows how to reward and how to punish. . . . Why 
 are you mystifying usi • 
 
 "I told you that I did not know," Pan Longin excused him- 
 self by saying. 
 
 But the old man puffed angrily for some time and ran his 
 hand through his snow-white hair and growled: 
 
 "Eed! Hm! Bed! Hm! That is something new. Who- 
 ever discovered that has something green in his head, not 
 red!" 
 
 A silence ensued. Through the window came the noise of 
 the wrangling noblemen. 
 
 Little Volodiyovski broke the silence. 
 "Well, father, what do you' think is the matter with our 
 lord?" 
 
 "Hm!" said the old man, "I am not his confidant so I do 
 not know. He is considering something. He is fighting 
 with himself. It is a soul struggle, it cannot be otherwise; 
 and the greater the soul, the severer the torture. . . " 
 And the old knight was not mistaken for, at that moment 
 the prince, the victor, lay in the dust in his quarters, in the 
 dust before the crucifix, and fought one of the hardest 
 battles of his life. 
 
 The watch on the castle of Zbaraj called out midnight; 
 and Yeremy was still communing with God and with his 
 own exalted soul. His mind, his eonseienee, his love of 
 country, his pride, the consciousness of his own strength and 
 of his great mission had become combatants in his soul and 
 were carrying on an obstinate fight, which thieatened to 
 break his heart, to split his head, and made all his limbs 
 tremble with pain. Contrary to the will of the Primate, of 
 the chancellors, of the Senate, of the commanders, against 
 the will of the government, the regular troops, the nobility, 
 foreign companies, flocked to this victor — in a word the whole 
 Commonwealth gave itself into his hand; took refuge be- 
 
 27 
 
4i8 WITB flkE AKD SWORD. 
 
 neath his wings; entrusted its fate to his genius, and cried, 
 through its favorite sons, "Save us, for thou alone canst save 
 us!" In one month more, in two, one hundred thousand 
 warriors would gather before Zbaraj, prepared to fight for life 
 or death with the dragon of civil war. Here, visions of the 
 future, bright with an overwhelming glory, of fame and 
 power, passed before the eyes of the prince. Those who 
 would nt)w pass him by and humiliate him, would tremble 
 before him. And he would take with him these iron armies 
 of the knighthood, who would win such victories, such tri- 
 umphs, in the steppes of the Ukraine, as had never been 
 heard of. And the prince felt he had strength to do this; 
 on his shoulders wings were growing like the wings of the 
 great Archangel Michael. At this moment, he seemed to 
 be transformed into a giant whom the whole castle, the 
 whole Zbaraj, the whole of Eussia could not contain. With 
 God's help he would grind Khmyelnitski, he would trample 
 down the rebellion; he would bring peace to the mother 
 country. He saw the endless plains; the myriad hosts; he 
 heard the thunder of the cannon. Carnage! carnage! An 
 unheard of, unexampled defeat. Hundreds of thousands of 
 corpses, hundreds of thousands of flags cover the bloody 
 steppes, and he tramples over Khmyelnitski's body, and the 
 trumpets proclaim the victory and their sound rings from 
 sea to sea. . The prince sprang to his feet and stretched 
 out his hands to the Christ, and around his head a red light 
 was shining. "Christ! Christ!" he cried, "Thou seest that I 
 can do this, t«ll me that it is my duty." 
 
 But the Christ's head was sunk on his breast and he seemed 
 to be in silent anguish, as though he had just been nailed to 
 the cross. "To thy glory," cried the nrince, "JVore mxhi! 
 Non milii,! sed nomine Tuo da gloriam. Xot unto me, not 
 unto me, but unto thy name give the glory. To the glory 
 of the faith and of the Church, of the whole of Christendom, 
 Christ! Christ!" And a new vision passed before the 
 eyes of the hero. This war would not end with a victory 
 over Khmyelnitski. When the prince should have trodden 
 down the rebellion, he would gain bodily vigor and with gi- 
 gantic force would gather together legions of Cossacks, my- 
 riads of the nobility and proceed farther, and attack the 
 Crimea, seize the terrible dragon in his own den and raise 
 the standard of the Cross, there, where hitherto the church- 
 bell had ever called the faithful to prayer. 
 
WITH FIBE AND SWORD. .jg 
 
 Or he would ride into tbose laaids which the Princes Vish- 
 nyovyetski had once trampled with their horses' hoofs and 
 extend the boundaries of the Commonwealth and, with them, 
 the power of the Church, to the farthest ends of the earth. 
 
 What fould. be the end of these flights of taxicj. What the 
 end of this glory, this strength, this might? There would 
 be no end. 
 
 The light of the moon beamed into the hall of the castle, 
 but the clock struck a late hour and the c'ocks were crowing. 
 The day would soon break and it would be a day on which, 
 in addition to the sun in the heavens, a new sun would rise 
 on the earth. 
 
 4: 4» 4: H: 4: Hi 
 
 Yes, the Prince would be a child not a man if he should 
 not do this. If for whatsoever reason he should retreat before 
 the voice of these .powers of fate; and now he already felt a 
 certain peace, Christ had evidently poured his compassion 
 on him. Praise to him for this favor. He already began to 
 see things in a more cheerful light and took in with tears in 
 the eyes of his soul the situation of the mother country and 
 all the circumstances attending it. The policy of the chan- 
 cellor and of the leaders in Warsaw, as of the Voyevoda of 
 Bratslav is bad — ruinous for the country, first, he must crush 
 the Zaporojians, shed a sea of blood, crush, conquer, and then 
 consider everything as finished. Do away with all excesses 
 and all oppressions, introduce order and peace, subdue the 
 rebellion with mig'ht, restore civilized life — ^that is the only 
 way worthy of this great, glorious Commonwealth. Formerly 
 perhaps another way might have been selected, but now never. 
 For to what purpose were negotiations when numberless 
 thousands of armed men stood opposite each other? And if 
 conditions were agreed to, what force could they have? No, 
 no, they are dreams, visions, this will be a war for all time, 
 a sea o-f tears and blood for the future — ^the one course which 
 was great, noble, and powerful, was the one they must take. 
 He would not wish anything further, nor demand anything 
 more. He would return again to his Lubni and wait quietly 
 until the sound of the drums of Gradyva should call him 
 afresh to action. 
 
 Let them go their way. But who? The Senate, the stormy 
 diet, the chancellor, the primate or the commanders? Who 
 besides himself could comprehend this mighty thought and 
 could carry it out? If they could find such a one — ^well! But 
 
420 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 where is he? Who has the power. — ^He alone — ^no one else! 
 To him the nobility hasten, to him throngs the army, in his 
 hand lies the sword of the Commonwealth, the Common- 
 wealth gOYerns, even if a king is on the throne, and all the 
 more when that throne is empty. She is the supreme lord 
 of this people and this is expressed not onlj' in the Diets, not 
 only through deputies, in the Senate, and chancellors, not 
 only in the written laws and manifestoes but more powerfully, 
 more impressively, more clearly, in action. Who rules here? 
 The military — and this military flows to Zbaraj and says to 
 him "Thou art our commander. "" The whole Commonwealth 
 with one voice gives him the authority, in virtue of the 
 strength of his deeds, and repeats, "Thotl art our com- 
 mander,"' and should he hesitate? What appointment is 
 necessary now? From whom should he await it? From those 
 perhaps who desire to destroy and humiliate the Comon- 
 wealth. 
 
 And why, why? Possibly because when panic had seized 
 all hearts, when the hetmans were taken prisoner, their army 
 destroyed, the nobles obliged to take refuge in their castles, 
 and the Cossack standing with his foot on the neck of the 
 Commonwealth, he alone pushed away this foot and raised 
 the mothers fainting from the dust. Everthing, life, prop- 
 erty, he sacrificed for her, to save her from ignominy and 
 death — he the victor! 
 
 Whoever has rendered the greatest ser\'ice let him seize 
 the rulership. To whomsoever it justly belongs let him hold 
 it in his hand. He would willingly have renojLtnced this 
 burden, willingly have said to God and to the Commonwealth, 
 "Let thy servant depart in peace, for behold he is very weary 
 and exhausted and he knows surely that his memory and 
 his grave will not perish." But as there is no one else he 
 would Le doubly and trebly a child and not a man if he 
 should refuse this rulership. this sunlit path, this glorious 
 shining future on which depend the salvation of the Com- 
 monwealth, her glory, her power and her fame! 
 
 And why should he? 
 
 The prince raised his head proudly and his gleaming eves 
 fell upon the Christ; but Christ's head was sunk on his 
 breast in anguish and silence as though he had been newly 
 crucified. 
 
 And why should he? The bogadiv pressed his hands to 
 his burning temples — perhaps he would find an answer. 
 What mean these voices that call to his soul, that through the 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 42 1 
 
 golden brightly-colored visions of glory, through the noise 
 of future victories, through the forebodings of greatness and 
 strength, so pitilessly sound in his soul? Ah! be still un- 
 happy one! What means the unrest that fills his fearless 
 breast with a shudder of terror? What does it mean that al- 
 though ' e sees clearly and distinctly that he must seize the 
 command something whispers in the depths of his conscience 
 "Thou deceivest thyself! Pride leads thee astray! Satan 
 promises you kingdoms!" And again a terrible struggle arose 
 in the heart of the Prince and again he was whirled away 
 by a storm of dread, uncertainty and doubt. 
 
 What is the nobility doing in joining him instead of the 
 commanders. Trampling on authority. 
 
 What is the army doing? It is defying discipline; and 
 he, the son of this State, the soldier would place himself at the 
 head of insubordination, and disguise it with his authority. 
 He would set the first example of want of discipline, of wil- 
 fulness, of contempt of law, and all this in order tO' snatch 
 the power for himself two months earlier. Should Prince 
 Charles be raised to the throne, the highest authority would 
 really still be his. Shall he set such a terrible example to 
 future generations? For what would happen? What a Vish- 
 nyovyetsld had dared to-day, a Konyetspolski, a Pototski, a 
 Firley, a Zamyski, or a Lubomirski would do to-raorrow, and 
 if each one should act according to his own ambition without 
 consideration of the law and discipline; if the children should 
 follow the example of their fathers and grandfathers, what 
 a future would be in store for this country! The worm of 
 wilfulness, disorder, and deeds of violence was already gnaw- 
 ing the root of this Commonwealth and she was tottering be- 
 neath the axe of civil war, the dry branches were falling from 
 the tree — what would happen if those who ought to guard 
 and defend her as the apple of their eye, should themselves 
 set fire to her, what would happen, Jesus! Jesus Christ! 
 
 Khmyelnitski also shields 'himself behind the public wel- 
 fare, nothing else, but he takes his stand against right and 
 \uthoritv. 
 
 \ A shudder ran through the prince from head to foot and he 
 wrung his hands. "Am I to be another Khmyelnitski, 
 Christ?" 
 
 But Christ's head remained bowed on his breast and he 
 was isilent in his anguish, as if he had just been crucified. 
 
 Pain gnawed afresh at the prince's heart; if he should 
 seize the power, and the chancellor and the Senate and the 
 
422 
 
 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Commanders should attaint him as a traitor and a rebel — ■ 
 whatwould happen? Another civil war? And besides is Khmy- 
 elnitski the greatest and most threatening enemy of the Com- 
 monwealth? Have not greater powers attacked her before? 
 Did not two hundred thousand iron Germans under Grun- 
 wald march against Yagyelo's regiments when at Khotsim 
 half of Asia stood ready to fight, was not the danger closer, 
 more threatening — what became of these hostile forces? 
 Nothing, the Commonwealth does not fear wars. It is not 
 wars that will destroy her. But why in view of such victories, 
 such latent strength, such glory, why should she who hai 
 conquered the Crusaders and the Turks he so weak and pow- 
 erless as to sink in the dust before a Cossack, that her neigh- 
 bors should invade her boundaries, that the nations should 
 despise her; that no one should obey her voice, should fear 
 her anger, and that all should fortell her destruction. 
 
 Ah! Ah! It is the ambition and' pride of the magnates, 
 selfish negotiations and arbitrariness are the cause of it. 
 Khmyelnitski is not the worst enemy but the internal discord, 
 the license of 'the nobility, the want of training and discipline 
 of the forces, the stormy Diets, the quarrels and the love of 
 dispute, the confusion, the internal weakness, the selfishness 
 and want of discipline — especially the want of discipline, 
 the tree rots and dies from the heart, tlie first storm easily 
 breaks it down, but the parricide who first lays his hand to 
 it is accursed; he and his children to the tenth generation. 
 
 Then go forward, thou conqueror of Nimirov Pohrebyshch, 
 Makhnovka and Konstantinov. go forward Prince Yoyevoda, 
 go forward, take the authority from the commanders, trample 
 law and authority under foot, give coming generations an 
 example of how one can wallow in the entrails of the mother. 
 
 Fear, despair, madness were depicted in the features of the 
 prince. . . . He gave a horrible scream, placed his hand 
 to his heart and fell in the dust before the crucifix. 
 
 He turned as he lay on the ground and struck his illus- 
 trious hea' against the stone steps, and from his breast came 
 a mufded cry: ' 
 
 "God be merciful to me a sinner? God be merciful to me 
 a sinner? God be merciful to me a sinner?" 
 
 The sky shone in the morning glow and the golden sun 
 rose higher and lighted up the room. Beneath the eaves, 
 the sparrows and swallows were twittering. The prince rose 
 to his feet and awakened his boy, Zelenski, who was asleep 
 behind the door. 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWOBD. 423 
 
 "Hasten," 'he said, "to the orderlies and command them 
 to send the colonels who are in the castle and in the town, 
 of the regulars as well as of the militia, to me in this room." 
 
 Two hours later the room began to fill with the forms of 
 the bearded warriors, of the prince's officers; there were 
 present, old Zatvilikhovski, Polanovki, Skshetuski with Za- 
 globa, Vurtzel, Captain Makhnitski, Volodiyovski, Vyershul, 
 Colonel Maehniski, Colodjowski, Wierzul, Poniatovski, almost 
 all the officers down to the ensigns except Kushel, who had 
 been sent to Podol to reconnoitre. Of the regular army there 
 were present Osinski and Korytski. Many of the more dis- 
 tinguished nobles of the country could not be dragged out 
 of their beds, but a few of these were present, among them, 
 representatives from various provinces from castellans to 
 under-chamberlains. Loud conversation was carried on and 
 there was a humming in the room as in a hive, all eyes were 
 directed towards the door througih which the prince would 
 appear. Suddenly silence fell; the prince had entered the 
 room. His countenance was peaceful, cheerful, and only the 
 eyes, red from want of sleep, and the furrowed features testi- 
 fied to the inward struggle, but through this cheerful and 
 even mild appearance shone an earnest and unbending will. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "I took counsel this night with God 
 and my own conscience to find out what I ought to do. I 
 announce to you, therefore, and you shall announce it to the 
 whole knighthood, that for the good of the fatherland and 
 for the sake of unity, which is so essential in times of calam- 
 ity, that I submit to the authorities. 
 
 A deep silence reigned in the assembly. 
 
 At noon of the same day there stood in the courtyard of 
 the castle three hundred of Vyershul's Tarttars»in readiness 
 to set out with Pan Skshetuski, and in the castle the prince 
 was giving a dinner to the chief officers which was also a 
 leave taking for our knight. He was given as the bridegroom 
 the place of honor beside the prince, and immediately next 
 to him sat Zagloba, for it was known that his cleverness and 
 his courage had saved the young lady when she was in the 
 utmost extremity. The prince was happy for he had cast 
 a burden from his breast, and he drank toasts to the health 
 of the young couple. The walls and windows shook with 
 joyous shouts of the officers. In the anterooms the servants 
 were also revelling, and Jendzian was king among them, 
 
424 '^ITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said the prince, "I will empty this third 
 goblet to the coming consolation. It is a mighty nest! God 
 grant that the apples may not fall from the tree. May this 
 parent hawk beget worthy fledglings." 
 
 "Long Hfe! Long life!" 
 
 "I thank you," said Skshetuski, as he emptied a mighty 
 goblet of Mabnoisie. 
 
 "Long life! Long life!' ' 
 
 "Crescite et multiplicamini !" 
 
 "You ought to provide half a company," said old Zats- 
 vilikhovski laughing. 
 
 "I know him already," erird Zagloba, "he will Skshe- 
 tuskirize the army." 
 
 The nobles burst into loud laughter; the wine had mounted 
 to their heads; one saw red faces and heard loud shouts. 
 Everyone seemed to be getting into better humor. 
 
 "Well," said Skshetuski full of happiness, "I will confess to 
 you that the cuckoo did promise me twelve boys." 
 
 "Good heavens! the storks will die of hard work," said 
 Zagloba. 
 
 The others answered with a loud laughter. They all 
 laughed and the hall reechoed with their voices. 
 
 Suddenly there appeared on the threshold a gloomy ap- 
 parition covered with dust, who, on seeing the table spread 
 and t>>° faces beaming with happiness, remained standing at 
 the door as though he hesitated about entering. The prince 
 was the first to remark his apparition. He frowned, put his 
 hand up to his eyes and said: 
 
 "Who is there? Ah! Kushel of the advance guard! What 
 is it? What news have you?" 
 
 "Very bad news, my Prince," said the young officer in 
 hollow tones. 
 
 As one man the assembled company were silent as though 
 they had fallen under a spell. The goblets remained in their 
 hands, half way to their mouths, all eyes were directed to 
 Kushel in whose tired face sorrow was depicted. 
 
 "It would have been better if you had not announced it 
 just as I am happy over my wine," said the prince, 'Taut as 
 you have begun you had better finish."' 
 
 "My Prince, I wish that I were not the herald of misfor- 
 tune, for I cannot bring myself to speak this news." 
 
 "What has happened, speak." 
 
 "Bar ... is taken!" 
 
BOOK III. 
 
CHAPTEE I. 
 
 It was a bright, clear night as a small troop of horsemen 
 moved forward on the right bank of Valadynka, in the di- 
 rection of the Dniester. 
 
 They moved forward very slowly, almost step by step. At 
 their head, a little in advance of the rest, rode two of them as 
 an advance guard. But there was, apparently, no reason to 
 be watchful, and, ins^ad of looking round them, they con- 
 versed the whole time; and, as they continually pulled up 
 their horses, they would look back at those who were follow- 
 ing them and call out: 
 
 "Slowly there, slowly!" 
 
 And the horsemen moved still more slowly. They hardly 
 appeared to advance. 
 
 At length, as they rounded a hill which had shaded them, 
 they came out into an open space which was flooded with 
 moonlight, and one could now understand better why they 
 moved so slowly. In the middle of the caravan, the horses 
 carried between them a ,litter, fastened to their saddles, in 
 which lay a human form. 
 
 The silver moonbeams lighted up the pale face and closed 
 eyes. 
 
 Ten men rode behind the litter. By their lances without 
 pennants, one knew they were Cossacks. Some of them were 
 leading pack-horses, others rode untrammeled. 
 
 But little as the foremost horsemen appeared to be watch- 
 ing the neighborhood, so much the more uneasily and anxi- 
 ously did the rest look round them on all sides. 
 
 And yet the region appeared to be a perfect desert. 
 
 The silence was broken only by the sound of horse's hoofs 
 and the cry of on© or two of the foremost riders, who, from 
 time to time repeated the warning: 
 
 "Slowly, carefully!" 
 
 Presently he turned to his companion. 
 
 "Is it far, Horpyna," he asked. His companion, whom he 
 
 427 
 
428 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 had called "Horpyna,"' a gigantic young woman dressed like 
 a Cossack, looked up at the starry sky and answered: 
 
 "Not much farther; we shall be th^re before midnight. We 
 are now goin ■ along Uoroshchi Pass, then we come to the 
 Tartar plains; and then we shall get at once into the Czortowy 
 Jar (Devil's Hollow). Oh, it would be dangerous to ride 
 through there after midnight before the cock crows! I might 
 do it, but it would be hard with you, very hard!" 
 
 The foremost horseman shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "I know," he said, "that you are allied with the Devil, but 
 there are remedies even against him." 
 
 "Devil or no devil, there is no remedy," answered Horpyna. 
 "If yoiT, Falcon, sV ould look the whole world through for a 
 hiding-place for your young princess, you could not find a 
 better one. Here, no one comes through after midnight, 
 except with me; and no foot of man has ever trodden the 
 Devils' Hollow. If anyone wishes his fortune told, they 
 stand at the entrance to the Hollow and wait till I come out. 
 Fear nothing! No one gets in there; neither Poles, Tartars, 
 nor anyone else. The Devil's Hollow is gruesome. You will 
 see it." 
 
 "Let it be as gruesome as it likes, I tell you I will come, 
 and come there, as often as I have a mind to." 
 
 "Will you do it in the daytime?" 
 
 "AYhenever it pleases me; and if the Devil himself stood 
 across the entrance, I would take him by the horns." 
 
 "Ah, Bohun; Bohun!" 
 
 "A1^, Dontsovna, Dontsovna! Do not be worried about me. 
 If the Devil gets me or not, it won't be your fault; but I will 
 tell you one thing. Do what you like with your Devil; but 
 if any harm happens to the princess, there is no devil or 
 vampire who will be able to save you from my hands." 
 
 "They tried to drown me once when I was living with my 
 brother on the Don; another time, the executioner in Yampol 
 had already shorn my head, and still nothing happened to me. 
 But that is another matter. I will watch over her for you. 
 Xot a hair shall fall from her head on account of the ghosts; 
 and in my cave, she is safe from human beings. She will not 
 vanish from you." 
 
 "Oh, you owl! If you say this, why did you prophecy to 
 me that it would go hard with me? Why did you shout into 
 my ear 'a, Pole stands bv her! a Pole stands by her?' '' 
 
 "I did not say that; it was the spirits. But perhaps things 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 429 
 
 have changed now. To-morrow, I will tell your fortune 
 above the water by the millwheel. You can see everything 
 clearly in the water, but you have to look into it for a long 
 time. You yourself shall see it; but you are a mad dog. If 
 one tells you the truth, you fly into a rage and seize your axe." 
 
 The conversation ceased. Again, one heard only the 
 sound of hoofs on the stones and other sounds which came 
 from the river, like the chirping of crickets. Bohun paid no 
 attention to these sounds, which might have aroused atten- 
 tion at that time of night. He turned his face up towards 
 the moon, and became plunged in deep thought. 
 
 "Horpyna," he said, after a pause. 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "You sorceress; you must know if it is true that there is 
 an herb wliioh, if brewed, will cause the one who drinks it to 
 fall in love. Love-wort or whatever it is called." 
 
 "Lubystka. But no lubystka will help your misery. If 
 the princess did not love anyone else, one might give it to 
 her to drink; but, if she loves another — do you know what 
 will happen?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Why, she will love the other all the more intensely." 
 
 "Go to destruction, together with your lubystka. You can 
 only prophecy evil, but you cannot advise me." 
 
 "Listen, then; I know another herb that grows in thfi 
 ground. Whoever drinks of this herb will lie two days and 
 two nights like a log and will not know what happens to him. 
 I will give her some of this herb — and then . . ." 
 
 The Cossack raised himself in his saddle and looked the 
 witch through and through with his gleaming eyes. 
 
 "What are you croaking?" he asked. 
 
 "Tayhodi," cried the witch, and burst into a frightful 
 laugh; like the neighing of a mare. 
 
 The laughter echoed ominously in the sides of the ravine. 
 
 "Bitch!" said the Cossack leader. 
 
 And the fire left his eyes and he sank once more into deep 
 thought. 
 
 At length he said, as if talking to himself: 
 
 "No! No! When we took Bar, I was the first who pene- 
 trated into the convent in order to shelter her from the 
 drunken fellows and to beat in the brains of anyone who 
 Aared to touch her; and she, herself, plunged a knife into her 
 breast — now she lies there unconscious. If I should touch 
 
430 WITH FIRt! AND SWORD. 
 
 her, only with my hand, she would stab herself again or jump 
 into the river. I! unhappy one, could not prevenit it." 
 
 "You are at heart a Pole and no Cossack; if you wiU not 
 take possession of the maiden, Cossack fashion." 
 
 "Oh, if I were a Pole! if I were a Pole!" cried Bohun. "If 
 I were a Pole!" 
 
 He seized his cap with both hands, for he was overcome 
 with wild sorrow. 
 
 "She must have bewitched you, this young Pole," mur- 
 mured Horpyna. 
 
 "She must, indeed," he answered sadly. "Oh, if the first 
 bullet had only killed me, or that I had ended my dog's life 
 on the stake. ... I desire only one being in the world, and 
 this one will not have me." 
 
 "Pool!" cried Horpyna, angrily, "why, you have her!" 
 
 "Shut your jaw," answered the Cossack furiously. 
 
 "And, if s le kills herself, what then?" 
 
 "Then I woidd tear you to pieces; tear myself to pieces; 
 dash my head on the stones and bite everyone like a dog. I 
 would give my soul for her, the honor of a Cossack; and 
 would fly to Yahorlik, and farther away, to the end of the 
 world; if I could fly with her, if I could live ^vith her, could 
 die with her!" 
 
 "Nothing will happen to her; she will not die." 
 
 "If she should die, I would nail you. to the door!" 
 
 "You have no authority over her." 
 
 "I have none, none at all. I would that she might stab me 
 with her knife; that she might kill me; it would be better." 
 
 "The foolish little Pole. If she would only give herself to 
 you of her own free will. Could she find a better one than 
 
 you?" 
 
 "If you can manage that, I will send you a pot full of 
 ducats and another full of pearls. "We got good booty in Bar, 
 and before that, too." 
 
 "You are rich as Prince Yeremy — and loaded with fame. 
 They say that even Kshyvonos fears you." 
 
 The Cossack waved his hand. 
 
 "What good does that all do me, when my heart aches?" 
 
 And again, there was a silence. The river bank became 
 more wild, more desolate. The pale moonlight gave fantas- 
 tic shapes to the trees and rocks. Presently Horpyna spoke. 
 
 "Here is the Uoroshchi Pass. We must ride together." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
WITH FIBE AND 8W0BD. 43 1 
 
 "It is uncanny here." 
 
 They reined in their horses and, in a few minutes, were 
 joined by those that were riding behind them. Bohun rose 
 in his stirrilips, and looked into the litter. 
 
 "Is she asleep?" he r.sked. 
 
 "She is sleeping as sweetly as a child," answered the old 
 Cossack. 
 
 "I gave her a sleeping draught," said the fortune teller. 
 
 "Slowly, carefully," said Bohun, almost devouring the 
 sleeping form with his eyes. Do not waken her. The moon 
 is shining straight in her face, my darling." 
 
 "Quiet; do not wake her," whispered one of the Cossacks. 
 
 And the cavalcade proceeded on its way. They soon 
 reached the Uoroshohi Pass. This was a low, barren hill, 
 that lay closie by the river; like a round disk on the ground. 
 The moon streamed down on it and lighted up the white 
 stones that were spread over its whole surface. In places, 
 these formed heaps and looked like the remains of ruined 
 churches and castles. In some places, there were flat stones 
 that stood on end and looked like gravestones in a church- 
 yard. The whole hill looked like a great heap of ruins. 
 Possibly, at one time, long ago, in the time of the Yagyello, 
 men had lived here. Now, the hill and the whole region, as 
 far as Eashkov, was a desolate wilderness in which only wild 
 animals dwelt and where at night, lost souls carried on their 
 orgies. 
 
 The cavalcade had hardly ascended the hills halfway, when 
 the light wind which had been blowing changed to a regular 
 storm, which blew around the hill with a peculiar melancholy 
 and ominous whistling sound and it seemed to the Cossacks 
 as though, from among these ruins heavy sighs and groans 
 issued as though forced from some human breast, and then 
 changed into laughing and crying voices of children. The 
 w'hole hill seemed alive and began to resound with various 
 voices. Behind the stones, tall dark forms seemed to look 
 forth; strange shadows glided forth among the pebbles; in the 
 semi-darkness weird lights gleamed in the distance, like the 
 glittering of wolves eyes. Finally, from the farther end of 
 the hill, between the heaps of stones and ruins there came a 
 howling as from the depths of the earth, which was also ac- 
 companied by the former sounds. 
 
 "Are those siromakhs?" whispered a young Cossack to-th? 
 Reader. 
 
432 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Noj those are vampires!" answered another, softly. 
 
 "Oh God, have mercy on us!" cried others, as they took 
 ofi their caps ajid crossed themselves devoutly. 
 
 The horses pricked up their ears and snorted. Horpyna, 
 who rode at the head of the cavalcade, growled, half to her- 
 self, and half aloud, some unintelhgible words Like a Satanic 
 pater. 
 
 AYhen they arrived at the end of the pass, she turned and 
 said: 
 
 "It is all right now. I had to restrain them with a charm 
 for they were very hungry." 
 
 Every breast uttered a sigh of reUef . Bohun and Horpjiia 
 again rode on in front; but the Cossacks who shortly before 
 had held their breath began to whisper and talk to one an- 
 other. Each one remembered some former adventures with 
 spirits and ghosts. 
 
 "If Horpyna were not here, we should never get through," 
 said one of the men. 
 
 "She is a great sorceress." 
 
 "And our Ataman is not afraid of 'didkas.' He saw nothing, 
 he heard nothing; he was only looking round at the young 
 lady." 
 
 "If what happened to me had happened to him, he would 
 not feel so safe," answered the sergeant. 
 
 "And what happened to you. Father Ovsiruy?" 
 
 "I was riding once from Eeimentarovld to Hulaypol. It 
 was at night and I was passing by a graveyard. Suddenly, I 
 saw something spring from one of the grave-mounds to my 
 saddle-cloth. I looked round. It was a deathly pale child. 
 The Tartars had probably taken it from its mother to sell it 
 as a slave and it died on the way unbaptized. The eves shone 
 like two candles; it moaned and moaned. It sprang from the 
 saddle-cloth to my neck and I felt that it was biting me he- 
 hind the ear. Oh, God! A vampire! . . . But I 
 had-served long in Wallachia, and, there, there are more vam- 
 pires than people; but there is a protection against them. 
 I sprang from my horse and stuck the blade of my sword 
 into the earth. Perish! I cried. The Vampire moaned, 
 seized the blade, and glided down it under the ground. I 
 traced a cross on the earth with my sword and rode away." 
 
 "Then there are a great many vampires in ATallachia, 
 father?" 
 
 "Every other Wallach changes into a vampire after his 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. .,, 
 
 death, and the "Wallaohian vampires are the worst of all. 
 They call them there Brukolaks." 
 
 "And which is stronger, father, a 'didka' or a yampire?" 
 
 "A didka is stronger, but a vampire is more tenacious. If 
 you know how to manage a didka, it will serve you, but the 
 vampire is good for nothing; it only scents blood. But a 
 didka is its ataman." 
 
 "And Horpyna rules the didkas." 
 
 "It must be so. As long as she lives, she will rule them 
 Why, if she had no power over them, the Ataman would not 
 give his darling up to her; for the vampires thirst for maiden's 
 blood above all." 
 
 "I have heard that they cannot do anything to the souls of 
 the innocent." 
 
 "Not to the soul but to the body." 
 
 "It would be too bad for the beauty! She is like milk and 
 blood. Our little father knew right well what to capture in 
 Bar!" 
 
 Ovsivuy clacked his tongue. 
 
 "I cannot blame him. The golden Polish girl." 
 
 "I am sorry for her, father," said the young Cossack. 
 "When we laid her in the litter, she folded her little white 
 hands and prayed and prayed, 'kill me,' she entreated! 'Do 
 not ruin me; wretched one!' " 
 
 "No evil will happen to her!" 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the approach of 
 Horpyna. 
 
 "Hey, Cossacks," said the seeress, "this is the Tartar plain, 
 but do not be afraid. Only once a year, do they have a bad 
 night here; and the Devils' Glen and my abode are close at 
 hand." 
 
 Presently, the sound of dogs barking was heard. The cav- 
 alcade stepped into the entrance of the glen, which lead down 
 almost perpendicularly from the banks of the river and was 
 so narrow that four riders abreast could hardly pass along it. 
 At the bottom of the glen was a spring, which gleamed in 
 the moonlight as it hurried to meet the river. As the caval- 
 cade advanced, they found that the walls of the cave widened 
 out and enclosed a roomy, level space which was shut in on 
 all sides by rocks. Here and there were trees. No breath of 
 wind stirred their leaves. Long, black shadows from the 
 trees fell on the ground. In the spaces lighted by the moon, 
 gleamed white, round or longish objects, which the horrified 
 38 
 
434 
 
 WITB FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Cossacks recognized as human ribs and skulls. They looked 
 round mistrustfully, crossing themselves from time to time 
 on breast and brow. A light suddenly flashed in the distance 
 between the trees and, at the same moment, two large, ugly 
 black dogs approached, howling and barking at the sight of 
 the men and horses. On hearing Horpyna's shouts, they were 
 soon pacified and walked round the horsemen growling. 
 
 "These are not dogs," whispered the Cossacks. "These 
 are not dogs," grunted old Ovsi'STiy, in a tone which evinced 
 his conviction. 
 
 Behind the trees, a shanty, and behind it a stable, and 
 then a dark building appeared. The shanty looked outwardly 
 neat and roomy. The windows were lighted. 
 
 "That is my dwelling," said HorpjTia to Bohtm. Yonder 
 is the mill which grinds no wheat but our own; but I am a 
 prophet, and prophesy from the water above the wheel. I 
 will also prophesy for you. The young lady must go into 
 the stranger's room but, if j'ou wish to make it pretty, we 
 must take her over to the other side first. Stop here, and 
 dismount." 
 
 The cavalcade came to a standstill. Horpyna began to 
 call: 
 
 "Cheremis! Huku! Cheremis! Huku!" 
 
 A form, holding a bundle of pitch-pine shavings in his 
 hand, stepped before the house and, raising this flaming wood 
 in his hand, silently observed those present. It was an old, 
 ugly, gray-haired men; almost a dwarf in stature; -with a flat, 
 square face and slanting eyes. 
 
 "Wiat kind of a devil are you?'" asked Bohun. 
 
 "You must not ask him,'" said the giantess, "His tongue is 
 cut out." 
 
 "Come nearer." 
 
 "Listen," said the woman, "perhaps we can take the young 
 girl into the mill, the Cossack will be trimming up the guest- 
 room and hammering nails into the walls and that will wake 
 her up." 
 
 The Cossacks had dismounted and were carefully unfasten- 
 ing the litter. Bohun, himself, watched everything with the 
 greatest anxiety and himself bore the end of the litter to- 
 wards the head, as they carried her into the mill. Karzel 
 went on ahead holding the pitch-pine torch. The princess, 
 who was still sleeping from the effect of the draught which 
 Horpyna had prepared for her from soporific herbs, did not 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^^ 
 
 awake; though her eyelids twitched from the glare of the 
 torches which lighted up her face with a rosy glow. Perhaps 
 she was being soothed by wonderful dreams, for she smiled 
 sweetly whilst they carried the litter, though it resembled a 
 funeral procession. Bohun gazed at her. He felt as though 
 his heart would burst his ribs. "My darling, my darling," 
 he whispered softly and the stem, though handsome, face of 
 the chief became gentle, and glowed in the reflection of the 
 great love which had taken him captive, and which forged his 
 fetters ever more firmly; as the wild steppes are gradually 
 overspread by flames from the embers which the traveller 
 has forgotten to extinguish. 
 
 Horpyna, who was walking beside him, said: 
 "When she awakes from this sleep she will be well." 
 "God be praised! God be praised!" answered the chieftain. 
 Meanwhile, the Cossacks had begun to take the packs off 
 the six horses before the door of the cabin, and to unpack the 
 pieces of furniture, rugs, and other treasures that they had 
 plundered in Bar. A good fire had been made in the guest- 
 room and while some of the men continued to bring fresh 
 rugs and draperies, the others fastened these on the wooden 
 walls. Bohun had not only thought of a safe cage for his 
 bird, but also determined to adorn it, so that the bird should 
 not find captivity too unbearable. He soon came back from 
 the mill and, himself, superintended the work. The night 
 was passing; the moon was withdrawing her pale light from 
 the summits of the rocks; and the muffled sounds of the ham- 
 mers was still to be heard. The simple peasant room was 
 transformed more and more into a habitable chamber. At 
 length, when the walls had been completely covered, and 
 everything put in order, the sleeping princess was brought 
 back and laid upon soft cushions. Then, all was quiet. Only 
 in the stables were heard, for a time, through the silence, 
 loud bursts of laughter, resembling the neighing of a horse. 
 This was the young sorceress, who was joking before the fire 
 with the Cossacks and distributing blows and kisses among 
 them. 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 The STm was already high in the heavens when the prin- 
 cess awoke and opened her eyes. Her glances fell first on 
 the ceihng of the room and from thence wandered around 
 the room. Her awakening consciousness struggled with the 
 remains of her sleep and her dreams. Astonishment and 
 uneasiness were visihle in her face. ''IMiere was she? How 
 had she got here? In whose power Tvas she? Was she dream- 
 ing or was she awake? What meant this luxury that sur- 
 rounded her? What had happened to her up to this time?" 
 At this moment, the dreadfiil scene of the taking of Bar 
 suddenly came vividly before her vision. She remembered 
 everything. The slaughter of the thousands; people, nobles, 
 citizens, priests, the religious people and children — the blood- 
 stained heads of the "Slacks," the heads and necks round 
 which were twined reeking entrails, the noise of the drunken 
 people; the day of judgment of the completely-destroyed 
 town — and then, Bohun's appearance and her abduction. 
 She remembered also that, in a moment of despair, she had 
 stabbed herself with her own hand; and a cold perspiration 
 broke out on her forehead. Perhaps the knife had glided 
 aside, for she felt only a slight pain; and, at the same time, 
 she felt that she was alive, that health and strength were 
 returning; and, lastly, she remembered that they had carried 
 her a long, long distance in a litter. ''Where was she now? 
 Was she in a castle? Rescued, freed, in safety?" and here, 
 her looks wandered around the room. The windows were like 
 those in a peasant's cabin, small and square. One could 
 not see through them for they were made of thin skin instead 
 of glass. Was this truly a peasant's cabin. But that could 
 not be, for the splendor of its furniture contradicted such 
 a supposition. Instead of a ceiling, the girl saw above her 
 a canopy of crimson silk, embroidered with gold stars and 
 moons. The walls, that were not any too large, were covered 
 entirely with draperies. On the floor, lay a rug, woven in 
 various colors; as though it were strewn with fresh flowers. 
 436 
 
WITH FIBE AND 8W0BD. 43- 
 
 The mantelpiece was covered with Persiaa taffeta. Every- 
 where was gold fringe, silk, velvet; from the ceiling and the 
 walls to the very cushions on which her head rested. The 
 bright daylight which penetrated the covering of skin in the 
 litlte windows gave some light, but was lost in the crimson, 
 the purple, and the sapphire of the velvet, and seemed to 
 make a rainbow-like twilight. The princess was bewildered; 
 she could not trust her eyes. "Is this magic? Or have. the 
 hosts of Prince Yeremy rescued her from the Oossacks and 
 placed her in a princely castle?" 
 
 The girl folded her hands. 
 
 "Holy Virgin, grant that the first face which appears at 
 the door may be that of a protector and a friend." 
 
 Just then, through the heavy gold embroidered portiere, 
 there came to her ears, as from a distance, the sound of a lute 
 and, to its accompaniment, a voice sang a song that she knew 
 well: 
 
 " Love for Thee is worse than sickness ; 
 Sickness is a passing ill ; 
 And life may yield fresh joy and hope, 
 But Love's wound Time ne'er can heal." 
 
 The princess raised herself on her couch, but, the more she 
 listened, the wider did her eyes open with terror — finally she 
 gave a frightful scream and threw herself back into the 
 cushions, as if she were dead. 
 
 She had recognized Bohun's voice. 
 
 But her scream had, at any rate, pierced the walls of the 
 guest room; for, presently, the heavy curtain was moved 
 aside and the chieftain himself appeared on the threshold. 
 Helena covered her eyes with her hands and her pallid lips 
 repeated, as in a fever: 
 
 "Jesus Maria! Jesus Maria!" 
 
 And yet, the sight that terrified her so, would have rejoiced 
 the eyes of many a girl; for a radiance fairly streamed from 
 the face and apparel of this young Cossack. The diamond 
 buttons of his doublet glistened like the stars in the sky; his 
 dagger and sabre flashed with Jewels. His coat, made of 
 silver lace, and the red Kontu&h, with the slashed sleeves, 
 heightened the beauty of his tawny face. He stood thus 
 before her, slender, black eyed, magnificent; the handsomest 
 of all the young men of the Ukraine. 
 
 But his eyes were sad, like stars that are veiled by clouds, 
 and he looked almost humbly at her; and, as she saw that 
 
^^38 WITH FIRE i.Y/> SWORD. 
 
 the expression of fear did not leave her face, he began to 
 speak, in a low, sad voice: 
 
 '"Fear nothing. Princess!" 
 
 "Where am I, where am I?" she asked, looking at him 
 thxough her fingers. 
 
 "In a safe place, far from the war. Fear nothing, thou, 
 my beloved soul! I brought thee here from Bar that neither 
 the people nor the war might do thee any injury. The Cos- 
 sacks left no one alive; you, alone, came away alive."" 
 
 "What am I doing here? Why do you pursue me?"' 
 
 "I pursue you! My God!" And the chieftain folded his 
 hands and shook his head, like a man who has sufEered a great 
 wrong. 
 
 "I am dreadfully afraid of you."' 
 
 "Why do you fear me? If you command me, I will not 
 move from the door. I am your slave. It is enough for me 
 to remain here, on the threshold, and look into your eyes. 
 I am not going to do you any harm. Why do you hate me? 
 Oh, gracious God! At sight of me, you stabbed yourself with 
 a dagger, although you had known me a long time and knew 
 that I came to rescue you. I am not a stranger to you, but 
 a dear friend; and, yet, you stabbed yourself with a knife. 
 Princess!" 
 
 The pale cheeks of the girl became stiddenly crimson. 
 
 "Because I preferred death to disgrace,"" she said. "And 
 I swear, that, if you do not respect me, I will kill myself; even 
 if I should lose my soul's salvation!"" 
 
 The eyes of the girl flashed fire. The chieftain saw that 
 there was no trifling with this princely Kurtsevich blood, 
 which, in its excitement, would carry out whatever it threat- 
 ened; and he knew that the girl would aim the dagger more 
 surely the second time than the first. 
 
 So he answered nothing, but walked forward two or three 
 steps to the window, and sat down on a bench covered with 
 gold embroidery, and hung his head. 
 
 There was silence for a while. 
 
 ''You can rest in peace,"" he said, "as long as I am sober, 
 as long as the gorzalka does not mount to my head; so long, 
 you will be to me as a statue of a saint in the churches. And, 
 from the time I found you in Bar, I left off drinking. Before 
 that, I drank, drank to drown my sorrow in gorzalka. What 
 could I do? But now, neither sweet wine nor gorzalka passes 
 my lips." 
 
Wli'H VlttE MD mom. 4jg 
 
 !riie princess was silent. 
 
 "I will look at you;" he continued, "gladden my eyes with 
 the sight of your rosy cheeks, and, then, I will go." 
 
 "Give me back my freedom," said the girl. 
 
 "But you are not a prisoner? You are mistress here. And 
 whither would you go? The Kurtseviehes are dead; the vill- 
 ages and settlements are destroyed by fire; the prince is not 
 in Lubni. He is marching against Khmyelnitski and Khmy- 
 elnitski against him. Everywhere is war, shedding of blood, 
 everywhere are Cossacks, hordes and soldiers. Who will pro- 
 tect you? Who take care of you, if not I?" 
 
 The ^irincess raised her eyes. Then it occurred to her, that 
 there was still someone in the world who would take her to 
 himself and defend her; but she would not name him, for fear 
 of awaking the terrible lion. At the same time, a deep sor- 
 row filled her heart. Was he still alive whom her soul longed 
 for? As long as she remained in Bar, she knew that he was 
 alive; for, immediately after Zagloba's departure, the name 
 of Skshetuski came to her ears, together with the news of 
 the victories of the terrible Prince. But how many days and 
 nights had pasesd since that time! How many fights, how 
 many dangers might have overtaken him! She could now 
 only get news of him through Bohun, whom she dared not 
 and would not ask. 
 
 She buried her head in her pillow. 
 
 "Then I must remain here a prisoner?" she asked moaning. 
 "What have I done to you that you should pursue me like 
 misfortune?" 
 
 The Cossack raised his head and began to speak, so softly 
 that one could hardly understand him. 
 
 "What thou hast done to me — I do not know; but I do 
 know that if I am thy fate, thou art also mine. If I did not 
 love thee I should be as free as the wind of the fields, with 
 a heart free from care, with a free soul and famous as Kon- 
 ashevieh Sahaydachny himself. Thy cheeks are my fate, 
 thine eyes are my fate; neither free will nor Cossack honor 
 are any longer dear to me. What did I care for beauty until 
 you grew from a child to a maiden! Once, I took a galley, on 
 board of which were the most beautiful girls, destined for the 
 Sultan; and not one of them won my heart! The Cossack- 
 brothers played with them, and then I had a stone tied 
 round the neck of each one and had her thrown into the 
 water. I feared no one; no one dared attack me. I went to 
 
. .Q WITE FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 the war against the heathen, took booty; and, as the prince 
 is in his palace, so was I on the steppes; and to-day — here I 
 sit, a slave, entreating for a kind word from you; and I may 
 not have it, and have never had it — not even then, when 
 girl, if you treated me differently, if you had ever treated 
 me differently, all this would not have happened that has 
 happened. I would not 'have killed your relations; I would 
 not have joined the disaffected peasants; but, through thy 
 unkindness I have lost my reason. Thou mightest have led 
 me whither thou would'st. I gave thee my blood, my soul; 
 now, I am stained with the blood of the nobility. Formerly, 
 I killed only Tartars, and brought home booty for thee that 
 thou might's walk in gold and jewels, like God's cherubim. 
 Why did'st thou not love me then? Oh heavy, heavy does re- 
 pentance weigh on my heart. I may not live with thee; and, 
 without thee, I canot live! Not at a distance, not near, not 
 on the mountains, not in the valleys — thou, my beloved, my 
 little dove! But pardon me, that I came for thee to Eozloga 
 in the Cossack fashion with sword and fire. But I was drunk 
 with anger towards the princes, and, on the road, I drank 
 gorzalka — I, unhappy murderer, and then, when thou fleddest 
 from me, I howled like a dog, and my wounds pained — 1 
 would not eat, and I called my mother. Death, to take me 
 away — and thou would'st that I should now give thee up to 
 lose thee again, my darling my little dove!" 
 
 Bohun interrupted himself; his voice was choking and he 
 was almost sobbing; and Helena's face grew first white, then 
 red. The more intense the love that spoke in Bohun's words, 
 the greater was the abyss that opened before the girl, a bot- 
 tomless abyss without hope of escape. 
 
 When the Cossack had paused awhile, he collected himself 
 and then continued: 
 
 'TDemand what thou wilt! See how this room is adorned! 
 This is all mine, this is booty from Bar. I brought it here 
 for thee from Bar, on six horses. Ask what thou wilt — 
 yellow gold, rich dresses, bright jewels, humble slaves! I am 
 rich, I have enough property. Khmyelnitski will not grudge 
 it nor will Kshyvonos. Thou shalt live like the Princess 
 Vishniovyetski. I will conquer palaces for thee; will give 
 thee half of the TJkraine for, even if I am a Cossack, not a 
 nobleman, I am an bunchuk ataman. Ten thousand soldiers 
 are under me, more than under Prince Yeremy. Ask what 
 thou wilt if thou wilt only not leave me, darling, and learn 
 to love me!" 
 

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 HIM 
 
 THE PRINCESS RAISED HERSELF ON THE COUCH. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^j 
 
 The princess raised herself, pale as death, from her 
 cushion; but her sweet, beautiful face bore the impress of 
 such an unyielding will, of so much pride and power, that, 
 at this moment, this dove resembled a young eagle. 
 
 "If you are -waiting for my answer," she said, "know, that 
 should I be forced tO' pass my whole life moaning in captivity, 
 I would never love you, so help me God!" 
 
 Bohun underwent a struggle with himself. 
 
 "Do not say such things to me," he said in a hoarse voice. 
 
 "And do not speak to me of your love, for I am ashamed 
 of it; it insults and angers me! I am not for you." 
 
 The chieftain rose from his seat. 
 
 "And for whom then, Princess Kurtsevich? To whom 
 would you belong in Bar, if I had not been there." 
 
 "He who saved my life to disgrace and imprison me is my 
 enemy and not my friend." 
 
 "And do you remember that the peasants would have killed 
 you? It is frightful to think of it. ... . " 
 
 "The dagger would have killed me. You snatched it from 
 me." 
 
 "And I will not give it back to you, for you must be mine!" 
 said the Cossack exploding. 
 
 "Never, I prefer death!" 
 
 "You must and you shall!" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 "Well, if you were not wounded, after what you said to 
 me to-day, I would this very day send some soldiers to Kash- 
 kov and have a monk brought hither by the hair of his head; 
 and, to-morrow, I would be your husband. What then? Is 
 it not a sin not to love one's husband? Ha! Gracious lady, 
 so, the Cossack's love insults you and makes you angry? Who 
 are you then that I should be to you as a peasant? Where are 
 your palaces, your Boyars, your soldiers? Why are you in- 
 sulted? Why are you angry? I took you in war, you slave! 
 Oh, if I were a peasant, I would teach you wisdom with a 
 whip upon your white back, and satisfy myself with your 
 beauty without the assistance of any priest. If I were a 
 peasant, and not a knight!" 
 
 "Heavenly angels, save me!" whispered the princess. 
 
 Meanwhile, rage became more and more apparent in the 
 face of the Cossack. Anger seized him by the hair. 
 
 "I know why it insults you, why I am distasteful to you! 
 You are saving your maiden honor for another; but nothing 
 
442 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 will come of it, as true as I live, as true as I am a Cossack. 
 For that mangy nobleman, that miserable Pole; death and 
 destruction to him! He hardly looked at you, had hardly 
 turned you round once in the dance, when you were com- 
 pletely infatuated with him! And thou, Cossack, suffer and 
 break thy head! But I will catch him and I will flay him 
 aUve and nail him up. Know, that Khmyelnitski is march- 
 ing against the Poles, and I am going with him; and I will 
 find your dove, even if he were under the earth. And when 
 I come back, I wiU at once throw his head on the highway 
 under foot." 
 
 Helena had not heard the last words of the ataman. Pain, 
 anger, her wound, excitement, fear, had robbed her of her 
 strength, and intense weakness took possession of her limbs. 
 Her sight failed and her thoughts became confused. She 
 fainted. 
 
 Bohun stod there, awhile, pale with anger, foam on his lips, 
 when, suddenly, noticing this lifeless, powerless form, with 
 her head hanging helplesslj-, an unearthly cry escaped his 
 lips. 
 
 "It is all over with her, Horpjma! Horpyna! Horpyna!" 
 
 And he fell to the ground. The giantess came hurrying 
 to the guest room. 
 
 ""VMaat is the matter with you?" 
 
 "Save her! Save her!" cried Bohun, "I have killed her — 
 my soul, my light!"' 
 
 "Are you crazy?" 
 
 "I have killed her, killed her!" groaned the warrior, wring- 
 ing his hands. 
 
 But Horpj-na, approaching the princess, soon saw that she 
 was not dead, but in a dead faint; and as soon as she got 
 Bohun got out of the room, she began to restore her. 
 
 After a while, the princess opened her eyes. 
 
 "Well dearie, there is nothing the matter," said the witch, 
 "one can see that you were frightened at him and lost con- 
 sciousness; but the fainting-fit is over and your health will 
 come back. You are as sound as a nut and will live a long 
 time and enjoy happiness." 
 
 "Who are you?" asked the princess in a weak voice. 
 
 "J? Your servant, for so he commanded." 
 
 "Where am I?" 
 
 "In the Devil's Hollow. It is an absolute wilderness. You 
 ynW see no one here but hiin," 
 
WITH FIBE AND SWORD. 443 
 
 "Do you live here too?" 
 
 "This is our faxm. I am Dontsovnaj my brother com- 
 mands a squadron under Bohun; he has good Coissacks. And 
 I stay here, and will keep you in this golden room. The cabin 
 is turned into an enchanted castle. It fairly glitters. He 
 brought all this here for you." 
 
 Helena looked sharply into the bright face of the girl. She 
 appeared to be perfectly sincere. 
 
 "And will you be good to me?" 
 
 The white teeth of the witch gleamed as she laughed. 
 
 "I will, indeed! Why should I not," she said. "But you 
 must be good to the ataman. He is a falcon, a famous young 
 soldier. He will. ..." 
 
 Here the witch leaned over and w^hispered something into 
 Helena's ear, and then broke into a loud laugh. 
 
 "Away!" screamed the princess. 
 
CHAPTEE ni. 
 
 Two days later, in the morning, Dontsovna sat ^rith Bohnn 
 beneath a wUlow near the mill-wheel and looked at the foam- 
 ing water. 
 
 "You will watch her, will protect her, will not let her out 
 of your sight, so that she shall never leave the Hollow!" said 
 Bohun. 
 
 "Towards the side of the river, the ravine has a narrow 
 opening, but here it is roomy. Let the entrance be filled 
 with stones and we wiU stay here as if we were at the bottom 
 of a well. If necessary I can find a way out." 
 
 "What do you live on here?" 
 
 ''C'heremis plants corn behind the rocks. He also plants 
 grape-vines and catches birds in nets. With aU that and what 
 you have brought we have no lack of anything except bird's 
 nulk. Do not fear, she will not escape from the ravine and 
 no one will find out that she is here unless some of your 
 people gossip it.'' 
 
 '■J have sworn them. They are all faithful Cossacks. They 
 will not talk, although one should flay them. But you said 
 yourself that people often come here for you to tell their 
 fortunes." 
 
 "Sometimes they come from Eashkov; sometimes, when 
 they know about me, from Qod knows where; but they stay by 
 the river. You saw those bones. There were some who tried 
 to come in. There lie their bones." 
 
 "You killed them?" 
 
 '^Who killed them, killed them. Wlioever wishes to have 
 his fortune told, must wait outside the hollow; and I go to 
 the mill-wheel. Whatever I see in the water I go and tell 
 him. I will look for you in a minute, but I do not know if 
 I shall see anything; for one cannot always see." 
 
 "As long as you do not see anything evil." 
 
 "If it is something evil you will not ride away from here. 
 It would be better if you did not leave." 
 
 *1 must. KhmyelnitsM sent me a letter to Bar to tell me 
 
 444 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 445 
 
 to come back and he gave Kshyvonos the same orders. Now 
 that the Poles are marching toward us with a large forcje we 
 must keep our forces together." 
 
 "And when will you come back?" 
 
 "I do not know. There will be a great battle; greater than 
 any we have had. Either we shall die, or the Poles. If they 
 beat us, I will hide myself here; but if we beat them, I will 
 come for my little bird and drive with her to Kiev." 
 
 "And if you fall?" 
 
 "That is why I've come to you to tell my fortune. I want 
 to find out." 
 
 "And if you fall?" 
 
 "Our mother has borne us but once." 
 
 "Bah! bah! And what shall I then do with the girl? Shall 
 I wring her neck, or what?" 
 
 "If you lay a hand on her I will have you impaled by oxen." 
 The officer reflected gloomily. 
 
 "If I fall, tell her to think of me." 
 
 "Oh, the ungrateful little Pole! To think that she should 
 not love you in return for so much love. If it were I, I would 
 not be so contrary. Ha! Ha!" 
 
 With these words, Horpyna punched him twice in the side 
 with her fist and showed him all her teeth as she smiled. 
 
 "Go to the devil!" said the Oossack. 
 
 "Now, now! I know that you are not for me." 
 
 Bohun stared into the foaming water above the wheel as 
 if he himself could read his own future. 
 
 "Horpyna," he said presently. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Will she fret for me when I am gone?" 
 
 "If you will not make her your own Cossack fashion per- 
 haps it is better that you should go away." 
 
 "I will not; I cannot; I dare not. I know she would die.' 
 
 "Then it is better for you to go. As long as she sees you, 
 she cannot bear you; but, when she has stayed here with me 
 and Cheremis for one or two months, she will begin to like 
 you better." 
 
 "If she were well, I know what I would do. I would let a 
 priest come from Eashkov and I would marry her; but now I 
 am afraid that, if she should be frightened, she would die. 
 You saw that yourself." 
 
 "Let be. What good would the Priest and the marriage do 
 you? No', you are no true Cossack. No! I will hot have any 
 
446 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 priest or any other minister here. In Eashkov the Tartars 
 from Dobrudja are stationed. They would attack us and, if 
 they should come, you would never see the princess again. 
 What have you got into your head ? Go away, and come back 
 again." 
 
 "And you, look into the water and tell me what you see. 
 Tell me the truth and do not lie, even though you should see 
 me dead." 
 
 Dontsovna approached the trough and raised the second 
 sluice that shut ofE the water from the mill-wheel. The flood 
 poured with double force over the wheel which went round 
 faster and faster, until it was completely enveloped in spray. 
 Curdling foam gathered beneath the wheel, as from boiling 
 water. 
 
 The fortune-teller fixed her dark eyes on that foaming 
 water and, seizing her long braids that hung down behind her 
 ears, she began to cry out: 
 
 "Huku! huku! Show thyself! In the oak wheel, in the 
 white foam, in the bright spray, good, or bad, show thyself." 
 
 Bohun approached and sat down beside her. His face be- 
 trayed anxiety and feverish curiosity. 
 
 "I see," screamed the witch. 
 
 "What dost thou see?" 
 
 "The death of my brother; two oxen are dragging Dontsa 
 to the stake.'" 
 
 "To the devil with your brother!" growled Bohun, who 
 wanted to find out something else. 
 
 For a time one heard only the rattle of the wheel, which 
 was turning madly. 
 
 "My brother's head is blue, quite blue. The ravens are 
 pecking him,"" said the witch. 
 
 '^What else do 5'ou see?" 
 
 "Nothing! Oh, how blue he is! Huku! huku! Show thy- 
 self! In the oak wheel, in the white foam, in the bright 
 spray! I see. . . . '" 
 
 "And what?" 
 
 "A battle. The Poles are fleeing before our soldiers." 
 
 "And I? Am I pursuing them?" 
 
 "I see you, too. You are fighting with a small knight. 
 Hur! hur! hur! Beware of that little knight." 
 
 "And the princess?" 
 
 "She is not there. I see you again. Some one is with you 
 who has betrayed you. Your false friend." 
 
Tflffi PIRS AND 8W0kt>. ^^ 
 
 Bohun devoured with his eyes, first the foaming water, them 
 Horpyna; and racked his brain to explain the prophecy. 
 
 "What friend." ■ 
 
 "I do not see. I do not know if he is old or young." 
 
 "Old; quite old!" 
 
 "Perhaps he is old." 
 
 "Then I know who he is. He has already betrayed me 
 once; an old nobleman with a grey beard and a white eye. 
 Death and destruction to him! He is not my friend." 
 
 "He is spying on you. I see him again. Wait! The prin- 
 cess is there, too, with a coronet on her head, in a white dress; 
 and, above her, is a hawk.' 
 
 "That is I." 
 
 "Perhaps it is you. . . . A hawk. . . Or a falcon?. . . 
 It is a hawk!" 
 
 "It is?" 
 
 "Wait. There is nothing more to be seen. In the oak 
 wheel, in the white foam. . . Oh! Oh! a crowd of soldiers, 
 numerous as the trees in the forest, numerous as the thistles 
 in the steppes and you, above them all; and they are carrying 
 three bunchuks before you." 
 
 "And is the princess with me?" 
 
 "No, she is not there. You are in the camp." 
 
 Again, they were silent for a few minutes. The wheel 
 whirled round so that the whole mill trembled. 
 
 "Ha! What is all this blood? So much blood! So many 
 corpses, wolves and ravens among them. A pestilence comes 
 from them. Nothing but corpses! Nothing but corpses! Far 
 away in the blue distance, one sees nothing but corpses, noth- 
 ing but blood." 
 
 Suddenly, a gust of wind blowing across the wheel swept 
 away the cloud of spray and, at the same time, above them in 
 the mill, the ugly Cheremis appeared, with a bundle of wood 
 on his back. 
 
 "Cheremis, put down the sluice," cried the girl. 
 
 And then she went to wash her hands and face in the 
 brook. The dwarf meanwhile put down the sluice and 
 stemmed the water. 
 
 Bohun sat still in thought, and only the approach of Hor- 
 pyna roused him. 
 
 "You saw nothing -else?" he asked. 
 
 "I told you whatever appeared and could see nothing more." 
 
 "And were you not lying?" 
 
448 WttB FIRE 4-YD SWORD. 
 
 "By my brother's head, I spoke the truth. They were 
 going to impale him. With his feet tied to oxen, they will 
 have him dragged to the stake. I am sorry for him! But he 
 is not the only one who is doomed to death. How many bodies 
 I saw! I have never seen so many. There is going to be a 
 great war on the earth!"' 
 
 "And so you saw mo with a hawk over my head?" 
 
 "Yes, I did." 
 
 "And she had on a coronet?" 
 
 "A coronet and a white dress." 
 
 "And how do you know that I am this hawk? I told you 
 about the young Pole, the nobleman, perhaps it ip he?" 
 
 The girl frowned and reflected. 
 
 "jSTo," after a while she said, shaking her head. "If it were 
 a Pole, there would be an eagle." 
 
 "Thank God! Thank God! I am now going to the ser- 
 vants to tell them to get the horses ready and we wUl set 
 out this night." 
 
 "Yes, it is necessary that you should go." 
 
 "Khmyelnitski has commanded it and Kshyvonos has com- 
 manded it. You saw rightly that there is going to be a great 
 war, for I saw that in Bar, and also in Khmyelnitsld's letter." 
 
 Bohun really could not read, but he was ashamed to ac- 
 knowledge it, for he did not wish to appear uneducated. 
 
 "Well then, go," said the witch. "You are fortunate, for 
 you will become a hetman. I saw above you three bunehuks, 
 as clearly as I see these fingers." 
 
 "I shall be a hetman and marry a princess! It would not 
 be suitable for me to marry a peasant girl." 
 
 "You might speak differently to a peasant girl, but you are 
 ashamed of yourself before this one. You ought to be a Pole." 
 
 "I am not inferior to a Pole." 
 
 Then Bohun went into the stable, to the servants; and Hor- 
 pyna began to cook the dinner. 
 
 By evening, the horses were ready for the journey; but the 
 chieftain was not in a hurry. He sat in the guest room upon 
 a pile of rugs, with a lute in his hand, and looked at the 
 princess who had already left her couch, buthad taken refuge 
 in the other corner of the room and was telling her beads 
 softly. She paid no more attention to Bohun than if he were 
 not there. He, on the contrary, followed her every move- 
 ment with his eyes, caught, with his ears, her every sigh — 
 and knew not how he could bear it. He constantly opened his 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^g 
 
 lips to begin a conversation, but his throat seemed cvhoked. 
 The pale, quiet face, with a certain expression of sternness 
 around the mouth and brow, robbed him of courage. He had 
 formerly never remarked this expression in her face. Invol- 
 untarily, the remembrance of similar evenings in Eozloga 
 came to his mind, and a vivid picture of the Kurtseviches 
 and himself, sitting round the oak table. The old princess 
 was pulling the leaves off the summer roses; the princes were 
 throwing dice, and he was watching the beautiful princess, 
 just as he was now watching her. But, then, he was happy; 
 then, she would listen to his stories of military expeditions 
 with a zither in her hand, her black eyes resting on his face 
 and her parted cherry lips showing with what interest she 
 listened. 
 
 Now, she did not even look up. Formerly, when he 
 played the lute, she would listen and look up at him, till his 
 very heart melted. And yet, wonder of wonders, now, he was 
 her master; he had taken her by force. She was his booty, 
 his slave, he could command her — and nevertheless, he was 
 formerly far nearer to her and felt himself far more her 
 equal. The Kurtseviches were like brothers to him and she, 
 their sister, was for him not only the beloved of his heart, 
 the falcon, the dearest black-eyed girl; but, also, almost a 
 relation. And, now, she sat there before him, a proud, 
 gloomy, silent and merciless mistress. Anger took possession 
 of him. He would show her what it meant to despise a Cos- 
 sack! But he loved this merciless mistress; he would pour 
 out his blood for her and, whenever fury possessed him, it 
 seemed to him as though an unseen hand seized him by the 
 forelock, as though a voice called into his ear, "Halt!" Pres- 
 ently, he broke into a violent fury, and then he dashed his 
 head against the floor. The reason was this: The Cossack 
 was filled with anguish; he felt that he was a burden to her in 
 this room. If she would only smile on him once, say one 
 kind word to him, he would fall at her feet — and then ride 
 to the devil; to drown his sorrow, his anger and his feeling 
 of humiliation in the blood of the Poles. But, here, he felt 
 as though lie were the slave of this princess. If he had not 
 known her formerly, and known that she was a Polish lady 
 of. one of the first noble families, he would have had more 
 courage — ^but she was the Princess Helena, whose hand he 
 had sued for from the Kurtsevichi; for whom he would give 
 Eozloga and all that he possessed. And the greater his shame 
 before her at being a peasant the less is his daring. 
 29 
 
450 
 
 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 Time pressed. From outside came the buzz of conversation 
 from the servants, who were probably sitting in their saddles, 
 awaiting the ataman who was suffering such tortures. The 
 bright flame from the pitch-pine lighted up his face, his rich 
 mantle, his lute — and the princess. If she would only. east 
 one glance ia his direction; The ataman felt bitterness, 
 anger, oppression; he also felt foolish. He wished to take a 
 touching farewell and feared that the parting would not be 
 what he so longed for; he feared that he must leave her in 
 bitterness, anger and pain. 
 
 Oh, if it were not the Princess Helena, who had wounded 
 herself with the dagger; who would like now to MJl herself; 
 who was so dear to him, so dear to him, and all the dearer, 
 the prouder and more cruel she showed herself! 
 
 A horse neighed outside the window. The chieftain gained 
 courage. 
 
 'Trincess,"' he said, "it is time for me to leave." 
 
 Helena was silent. 
 
 "And you do not bid me God speed." 
 
 "God speed," she said earnestly. 
 
 The Cossack's heart throbbed. She had said what he 
 wanted, but he would have Uked to hear it said in a different 
 tone. 
 
 'Xow I know," he said, "that you are angry with me; that 
 you despise me. But I can tell you one thing; that another 
 would have treated you worse than I have done. I brought 
 you here because I could not do otherwise, but what harm 
 have I done you? Hare I not treated you as was becoming? 
 Like a kings daughter? Say yourself! am I such a villain 
 that you cannot give me one kind word ? And yet, you are in 
 my power." 
 
 'T am in God's power," she said, as earnestly as before; 
 'TDut, as you have restrained yourself in my presence, I am 
 grateful to you." 
 
 "Well, then, I will go with only this word of farewell. Per- 
 haps you may repent; perhaps a longing wiU come over you." 
 
 Helena was silent. 
 
 "I am sorry to leave you here alone," said Bohnn, "sorry, 
 also, that I must go away; but it must be. It would be easier 
 for me if you should give me a blessing on my journey. What 
 can I do to conciliate you?" 
 
 "Give me back my freedom, and God will forgive yon 
 everything, and I wDl also bless you." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 451 
 
 "Well, perhaps that may happen yet," answered the Cos- 
 sack. "Perhaps you may yet regret that you have treated me 
 so cruelly." 
 
 Bohun wanted to buy a leave-taking, even if with a half 
 promise, which he had no intention to fulfil and gain his end, 
 for a ray of hope beamed in Helena's eyes and the expression 
 of sternness melted from her face. She folded her hands on 
 her breast and looked at him with a cheerful face. 
 
 "Would you? .... " 
 
 "1 do not know," said the Cossack softly, for shame and 
 compassion were striving for the mastery. "I cannot now, 
 I cannot. Hordes are encamped in the wild fields; divisions 
 of the army are marching in every direction. The Dobrudja 
 Tartars are marching here from Eashkov. It cannot be, now, 
 for I am afraid — but when I come back. ... I am a little 
 child in your presence. You do what you will with me. . . . 
 I do not know, I do not know." .... 
 
 "May God and the Holy Virgin protect you. God be with 
 you." 
 
 She stretched out her hand to him. Bohun sprang towards 
 her and pressed her hand to his lips. Then, suddenly raising 
 his hand, an earnest look came into his face, and he let fall 
 her hand. Going towards the door, he bowed himself repeat- 
 edly in the Cossack manner, and disappeared behind the por- 
 tiere. Presently, a louder hum was heard outside. The clat- 
 ter of weapons and then the words of a song sung by several 
 voices. 
 
 '■ I shall be the bravest of all the braye, 
 Among the Cossacks, among my friends, 
 Through long, long years until the end of the world." 
 
 The voices and the sound of hoofs were presently lost in 
 the distance. 
 
CHAPTER TV. 
 
 "God has already worked a manifest miracle in her behalf," 
 said Zagloba to Volodiyovski and Podbipyenta, in Skshetu- 
 ski's chamber. "A manifest miracle, I saj', when he helped 
 me to rescue her from the hands of those dogs, and protected 
 her along the whole journey. Let us trust that he will once 
 again have compassion on her and on us. If she is only alive! 
 But something whispers to me that he has stolen her again, 
 for mark, gentlemen, as the informer told us, he has been 
 made the second in command, next to Pulyan, under Kshy- 
 vonos. May the De^il take him! Therefore he must have 
 been at the taking of Bar." 
 
 "Perhaps he did not find her among the crowd of unfor- 
 tunate ones. There were twenty thousand killed there," said 
 Volodiyovski. 
 
 "You don't know him. I would swear that he knew she 
 was in Bar. I am convinced that he saved her from the 
 slaughter and has taken her away somewhere." 
 
 "You do not give us much comfort or hope; for, in Skshetu- 
 ski's place, I would rather see her dead than let her remain 
 in those vile hands." 
 
 "And that is no comfort for, even if she be dead, she has 
 been wronged."' 
 
 "It is enough to make one desperate," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Yes, to make one desperate," repeated Longin. 
 
 Zagloba twirled his moustache and his beard and then he 
 burst forth: 
 
 "Ah! May they get the scabs, the whole of this dog's 
 brood. May the heathen make ropes of their guts! God has 
 made all kinds of men, but they were made by the devil — ^such 
 sons. Sodomites. May they be devoured by wild beasts."' 
 
 "I did not know this sweet maiden," said Pan Michael 
 sadly, "but T would rather that misfortune should pursue me 
 than her.'"'' 
 
 "I have seen her only once in my life; but when I think of 
 her I am so sad that I do not care to live," said Pan Longin. 
 452 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. .-, 
 
 "If that's how you feel," cried Zagloba, "how do you sup- 
 pose I feel, who loves her as my own daughter and have 
 brought her safely through so many dangers— how do you 
 suppose I feel!" 
 . "And how does Pan Skshetuski feel?" asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 Thus despairing, the knights presently became silent. 
 
 Zagloba was heard first: 
 
 "Can no one advise anything?" he asked. 
 
 "if nothing can be done, it is our duty to avenge her," an- 
 swered Volodiyovski. 
 
 "God grant that we may have a battle," sighed Pan Longin. 
 
 "They say that the Tartars have already crossed the river 
 and have struck camp in the Wild Lands." 
 
 "It must not be," said Zagloba. "We cannot forsake the 
 poor girl without doing something to help her. I have 
 dragged my old bones far enough in this world. It would be 
 better for me if I could find rest somewhere, could stretch 
 myself out in some bakery, to get warm; but, for the sake of 
 . this poor thing, I would travel far, even to Stambul, though 
 I had to put on a peasant's Jerkin and carry a lute; a lute, 
 which I cannot look at without abomination." 
 
 "You are so clever. Can you not think out a plan how we 
 can help her," said Podbipyenta. 
 
 "I have already thought of several plans. If only half of 
 Prince Dominik's men were as devoted as I am, Khmyelnitski 
 would long ago have been disemboweled and hung up by his 
 feet on the gallows. I have already spoken to Skshetuski 
 about it, but just now one can do nothing with him. Sorrow 
 has completely unmanned him, and is wasting him more than 
 an illness. Watch him, that he may not lose his reason. It 
 often happens that a great sorrow will make the mind ferment 
 like wine, until it finally becomes sour." 
 
 "It often happens, often happens," said Longin. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski moved back and forth uneasily and said: 
 
 "What remedy are you thinking of?" 
 
 "My remedy! Well, first we must try and find out if the 
 poor girl, the beautiful creature — may the holy Angels keep 
 her from harm — is still alive; and we can do that in two ways. 
 We may find among our Cossacks true and safe men, who will 
 undertake to go over to the Cossacks, in appearance only, but 
 in reality to mingle among Bohun's soldiers and try to find 
 out somethiiig from them." 
 
 "I have Eussian dragoons," interrupted Volodiyovski. "I 
 can find such men among them." 
 
454 " ^i^B fJ^E ^^'^ SWOBD. 
 
 "Wait a minute! . . Or we will take prisoner Some of 
 the rascals who took Bar and see if they do not know any- 
 thing. They all look to Bohnn as to a rainbow, so impressed 
 are they with his devillish spirit. They sing songs about 
 him — may their throats rust — and one relates to another 
 what he has done, or what he has not done. If he has taken 
 our poor child prisoner they will not hide it. 
 
 "We can send men to make inquiries and take a prisoner as 
 well," remarked Pan Podbipyenta. 
 
 "You've struck it. The chief thing is for us to find out if 
 she is alive. Then, as soon as you gentlemen desire to help 
 Pan SkshetusM with a true heart, place yourselves under my 
 command; for I have the most experience. We will disguise 
 ourselves as peasants and, try to find out where he has hidden 
 her. Once we know that, I will lay my head we shall get her. 
 Skshetuski and I have the most at stake, for Bohun knows us 
 both; and, should he recognize us — our own mother would 
 not know us again. But he has not seen either of you." 
 
 "He has seen me," said Podbipyenta, 'Taut that makes no 
 difference." 
 
 "Perhaps God will deliver him into our hands," said Pan 
 Volodiyovski. 
 
 ''I do not want to see him at all," continued Zagloba. 
 "May the hangman delight in his countenance! We must go 
 to work carefully, if we do not wish to spoil everything. It is 
 impossible that he should be the only one who knows of her 
 hiding-place, and it is safer to ask some one else about it." 
 
 ■'Perhaps our men whom we send out will find out for us. 
 If the prince will only allow me, I will choose the most reli- 
 able and will send them out to-morrow." 
 
 "The prince will allow it, sure enough; but I doubt whether 
 they will find out anything. Listen, gentlemen, something 
 has just occurred to me. How would it be if, instead of send- 
 ing out men we should dress ourselves as peasants and under- 
 take the journey ourselves." 
 
 "Oh, no, that -will not do," cried Pan Volodiyovski. 
 
 -Why will it not do?" 
 
 "You cannot understand military service. When the r^- 
 ments, without exception, stand ready for battle, it is a 
 sacred thing. Though father and mother should be on their 
 deathbed, no soldier would demand leave of absence; for that 
 would be the most dishonorable thing that a soldier could do, 
 just before a battle. After the battle is fought and the enemy 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. ^^^ 
 
 scattered, one may do it, but not beforehand; and remember, 
 Pan Skshetuski, himself, may have the greatest wish to do 
 the same, but he would not stir. He longs to go, the Prince 
 loves him; and yet, he says not a word, because he knows his 
 duty. This, gentlemen, is public duty, the other is private 
 duty. I do not know how it is elsewhere, although I judge 
 that it is the same everywhere. But, with our prince, it was 
 never the custom to ask leave before a battle, not even for the 
 .officers. And, though Skshetueki's heart should break, he 
 would not approach the prince with such a proposition." 
 
 "He is a Eoman and a stickler for form, I know that," 
 said Pan Zagloba, "but if anyone should whisper a word to 
 the prince, he would probably grant him and you leave 
 willingly." 
 
 "Such a thing would not occur to him. The prince is re- 
 sponsible for the whole Commonwealth. What are you 
 thinking of? It is a question here of matters of grave im- 
 portance, which concern the whole nation, and a private con- 
 sideration would have no weight with him. And, even if 
 he should voluntarily grant leave — which however iS quite 
 improbable — as God is in Heaven not one ol us would now 
 leave the camp, for we are bound in honor to serve our un- 
 happy country in the first place, and not to think of our own 
 interests." 
 
 "I know that also. I know and understand the service 
 from early times; and, therefore, I say to the gentlemen that 
 this idea only came into my mind, but I did not say that it 
 had taken root there. Besides, to tell the truth, we could not 
 do much even that way, as long as the power of those rascals 
 is not defeated; but if they are beaten and pursued, and have 
 to save their own throats, then we can boldly go among them 
 and easily get information from them. If the rest of the 
 army would only join us as soon as possible! Otherwise, we 
 shall grieve ourselves to death near this Cholhanski Kamyen. 
 If our prince only had the chief command we should have 
 gone away long ago. But it is easy to see that Prince Do- 
 minik likes to rest quite often as he is not here yet." 
 
 "He is expected in three days." 
 
 "God grant that it may be as soon as possible. Is it not 
 true that the Cup-Bearer is to come to-day?" 
 
 "So it is said." 
 
 At this moment the door opened and Pan Skshetuski 
 stepped in. His face appeared to be petrified with sorrow, 
 encb a ohill and stillness seemed to cortie from him, 
 
^56 WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 This young face, so stern and earnest, was a strange sight. 
 A smile never lighted it up and it seemed as if death itself 
 would not alter him much. His beard had grown long, half- 
 way r'ow-i to his waist; his raven black hair showed a few 
 silver threads. 
 
 His companions and friends divined his sorrow, though he 
 tried not to let it be perceived; otherwise, he was perfectly 
 conscious, apparently calm; and more zealous than before in 
 his military duties, and quite occupied with the approaching 
 battle. 
 
 "We were just speaking of your misfortune, and it is also 
 ours," said Zagloba, "for, God is our witness, that nothing 
 can give us any comfort. But it would be sterile sympathy if 
 we only helped you to shed tears. So we have decided to 
 sJied our blood for the sake of the dear one, if she is still on 
 the earth, and to rescue her from prison."' 
 
 "May God reward you," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "We will go with you even into Khmyelnitski's camp," 
 said Pan VolodiyoTski, looking anxiously at his friend. 
 
 "May God reward you," repeated Pan Yan. 
 
 "We know," said Zagloba, "that you have sworn that you 
 w ill find her, dead or alive; and we are ready, even this very 
 day. . . ." 
 
 Skshetuski had seated himself on a bench with his eyes 
 cast to the grotmd and said nothing. Zagloba was quite an- 
 noyed. 
 
 Could he intend to give her up? he thought. If he does, 
 may jrod be with him. I see there is neither gratitude nor 
 rem mbrance in the world ; but there are others who will save 
 her. Let them do it, for I would sooner draw my last breath. 
 
 Absolute silence reigned in the room and was only broken 
 by a sigh from Pan Longin. Meanwhile little Volodiyovski 
 approached Skshetuski and shook him by the sho\ilder. 
 
 "Where do you come from," he asked. 
 
 "Prom the prince." 
 
 "And what's the news?" 
 
 "I am going to-night on an expedition." 
 
 "Are you going far?" 
 
 "As far as Yarmolints, if the road is clear. Volodiyovski 
 looked across at Zagloba. They understood each otSer at 
 once. 
 
 "That is the way to Bar," growled Zaglobai 
 
 "We will go with you." 
 
WITH FIRE AND HWORD. ^^j 
 
 "You must ask for leave and find out if the prince has laid 
 out any other work for you." 
 
 "We will go together. I have something else I wish to 
 ask him." 
 
 "And so have we," said Zagloba. 
 
 They rose and went out. The prince's quarters were at 
 some distance, at the other end of the camp. They found 
 the front room full of officers from the difEerent regiments; 
 for soldiers came hither from all parts of the country to the 
 Cholhanski Kamyen to offer their services to the prince. Pan 
 Volodiyovski had to wait a long time before he and Pan 
 Longin could appear before the prince, but Yeremy at once 
 gave them permission to set out themselves, and to send out 
 dragoon spies, who should pretend to desert from the camp 
 and go over to Bohun's Cossacks and hear what these had to 
 say about the princess. To Volodiyovski, be said: 
 
 "I am thinking up new duties for Skshetuski, for I see that 
 he is buried in his sorrow and that it is consuming him. I 
 am unutterably sorry for him. Has be said nothing to you 
 about her?" 
 
 "Very little. At first, be started up and wanted to go 
 blindly into the midst of the Cossacks; but he remembered 
 that the regiments without exception were in readiness for 
 war, and that we were in the service of our country, which 
 must be saved before all else; and that is why he did not 
 come to see your highness. God only knows what is passing 
 in his mind." 
 
 "This has hit him hard. "Watch him, for I see you are a 
 faithful friend to him." 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski bowed low and left the room and, at this 
 moment, the Voyevoda of Kiev with the Starosta of Stob- 
 nitski, with Pan Denhof the starosta of Sokalski, and other 
 dignitaries, entered the prince's quarters. 
 
 "How goes it?" asked Pan Skshetuski. 
 
 "I am going with you, but, before that, I must go to my 
 regiments, for I am to send several men away." 
 
 "Let us go together." 
 
 They went and, with them. Pan Podbipyenta, Zagloba and 
 old Zatsvilikhovski, who was also going to his regiment. 
 ISTot far from the tents of Volodiyovski's dragoons they met 
 Pan Lashch who was rolling along, rather than walking, at 
 the head of some nobles; for, like his companions, he was 
 perfectly drunk. Zagloba sighed as he saw him. They had 
 
458 WITB FIBE AND SWORD. 
 
 become acquainted and grown to like each other at Konstanti- 
 noTj from the fact that they had similar characters and were 
 alike as two drops of water. Pan Lashch, although he was 
 an awe-inspiring knight, feared by the Heathen, as were not 
 many others, was at the same time a noted drunkard, glutton, 
 and dice thrower, who, in the intervals of fighting, praying, 
 duelling and slaughtering, loved nothing better than to be 
 in the company of such men as Zagloba, to drink for all he 
 was worth and to listen to anecdotes. He was a brawler of 
 the first water, who, of his own self, created so much disturb- 
 ance and so often transgressed the law that, in any other 
 country, he would long ago have lost his head. Many sen- 
 tences were hanging over him but, even in times of peace, he 
 did not pay much attention to them and during war he forgot 
 them completely. He had joined the prince at Eosolovtsa and 
 had done him no small service at Konstantinov; but, from 
 the moment they began to rest in Zbaraj, he became more 
 and more unendurable from the disturbances that he con- 
 stantly created. It may be remarked at the same time, that 
 no one could have told or have written down how much wine 
 Zagloba had drunk with him; how much he had talked to 
 him, how many stories he had told him, to the great joy of 
 the host, who invited him to come there every daj-. But 
 since the news of the taking of Bar, Zagloba had become earn- 
 est : he had lost his humor, his vivacity and no longer visited 
 the commander. Pan Lashch had begun to think that this 
 jolly nobleman had left the army and gone elsewhere, when 
 he suddenly came across him. He strettfhed both hands out 
 towards hiTn and said: 
 
 "AYell met, sir, why do you never come to 5.ee me? What 
 are you doing?" 
 
 "I am keeping Pan Skshetuski company," answered the 
 nobleman in a melancholy tone. 
 
 Pan Lashch could not bear Skshetuski because he was so 
 serious and he called him "The Sedate." He knew of his 
 unhappiness, for he had been at that dinner in Zbaraj when 
 the news of the taking of Bar had been brought; but, as he 
 was naturally a man of unrestrained feelings and was also 
 drunk, he did not know how to respect the sorrow of others 
 and. seizing a biitton of the Heutenant's coat, he said: 
 
 "So vou are weeping for your girl. Wa? she pretty? 
 What?"" 
 
 "Let me alone, good sir," said Skshetuski. 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. ^-g 
 
 "Wait a minute." 
 
 "As I am under orders I cannot stay." 
 
 "Wait a minute," said Lashch, with the obstinacy of a 
 drunken man. "You maybe under orders, but I am not; no 
 one can command me." 
 
 And then he repeated the question in a lower voice: 
 
 "Was she pretty? What?" 
 
 The lieutenant frowned. 
 
 "I must tell you, good sir, that it will be better not to re- 
 open the wound." ' i 
 
 "Not to open the wound? Do not be afraid! If she is 
 pretty she is alive." 
 
 Skshetuski's face grew deathly pale, but he controlled him- 
 self, and said: 
 
 "Sir, do not oblige me to forget to whom I am speaking." 
 
 Lashch opened his eyes very wide. 
 
 "What does that mean? You threaten me? You? Me? 
 On account of a wench?" 
 
 "Go your way. Pan Lashch," thundered old Zatsvilikhovski 
 trembling with rage. 
 
 "You creatures, you grey-coats, you pack of servants, 
 screamed the commander. "Gentlemen, draw your swords," 
 and, drawing his, he sprang towards Skshetuski. But at that 
 moment it was kno'cked out of his hand by Pan Yan and flew 
 like a bird into the air, while its owner, who had lost his bal- 
 ance, from the force of the blow, fell over and lay full length 
 on the ground. Skahetuski did nothing further but re- 
 mained standing still, white as death, a& though he were 
 stunned. Meanwhile, a tumult arose. From one direction 
 came the commander's soldiers and from the other direction 
 Volodiyovski's dragoons, like a swarm of bees from a hive. 
 There were loud cries of "Fight! fight!" 
 
 Many who came running up did not know what it was all 
 about. Their swords clashed. At any moment, the tumult 
 might have turned into a general fight. Fortunately Lashch's 
 companions had noticed that an increasing number of Visni- 
 ovyetski's soldiers were arriving on the spot. They were be- 
 coming sobered by fear, and, seizing the commander they 
 fled with him. 
 
 It is certain that if Pan Lashch had been dealing with less 
 well-disciplined soldiers he would have been cut into small 
 pieces. But old Zatsvilikhovski needed only to cry "Stop!" 
 and all swords disappeared in their sheaths. 
 
460 
 
 WITH FIRE A\D SWORD. 
 
 Xevertiheles8, the whole tamp resounded with the noise; 
 and the echo even reached the ears of the prince, especially 
 as Pan Kushel. who was on diity, dashed into lie room in 
 which the prince was having an interview with the Voyevoda 
 of Kiev, the staxosta of Stobnik and Pan Denhov, and cried: 
 
 "Your Highness, the soldiers are fig-hting with swords." 
 
 At that moment, the commander, pale and almost un- 
 conscious with anger, fell like a bomb into the room. 
 
 "Your Highness, justice!"' he cried. "In this camp, 
 things are going on just as they do with KhmyelnitsM. No 
 respect is paid to blood or rank. The officials of the crown 
 are struck with swords. If your Highness will not exercise 
 justice and sentence the giiilty ones to be 'hanged, I must see 
 to it myself." 
 
 The prince sprang from his seat at the table. 
 
 "What has happened? Who attacked you, good sir?" 
 
 "Your officer, Skshetuski." 
 
 The greatest astonishment was visible in the countenance 
 of the prince. 
 
 "Skshetuski I"" 
 
 Suddenly the door was opened and in stepped Zatsvili- 
 khovski. 
 
 "Yotir Highness, I was a witness."' he said. 
 
 "I did not come here to give an account of it but to de- 
 mand punishment," cried Lashch. 
 
 "The prince turned towards him and, looking at him 
 fixedly, said, quietlv and impressively: 
 
 "Slowly! slowly!""" 
 
 There was something so a'we-inspiring in his eyes and in 
 his quiet voice that Pan Lashch, although noi:ed for his great 
 boldness, was suddenly silent, as though he had lost his 
 speech; and the other gentlemen were almost frightened. 
 
 "Speak." said the prince to Zatsvilikhovski. 
 
 Zatsvilikhovski related the whole story. That Pan Lashch 
 had ridiculed, in a manner unworthy not only of a dignitary 
 but also of a nobleman, the sorrow of Pan Skshetuski and 
 had then sprung upon him with his sword, and, with remark- 
 able moderation for his years, the lieutenant had merelv 
 satisfied himself with knocking the sword out of liis op- 
 ponent's hand. The old man concluded as follows: 
 
 "And your Highness well knows that, although I am in 
 uiy seventieth year, no lie has ever passed my lips and never 
 shall, as long as I live. I could not under oath change one 
 word of my statement." 
 
WITH FIBE AND SWORD. .gj 
 
 The prince knew that Zatsvilikhovski's words were as true 
 as gold and he knew Pan Lashch equally well; but he did not 
 answer. He took a pen and began to write. When he had 
 finished, he said, looking at Pan Lashch: 
 
 "You shall have justice, gracious sir." 
 
 The commander wished to say something, but it seemed as 
 if words were wanting and he put his hands to his sides, 
 bowed and went proudly out of the room, 
 
 "Zelinski," said the prince, "give this note to Pan Skshet- 
 uski." 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski, who had not left the lieutenant's side, 
 was rather uneasy when he saw the prince's boy come into the 
 room. He was certain that they would have to appear before 
 the prince ait once, but the boy left the letter without a word 
 and went out. Skshetuski read it and handed it to his 
 friend. 
 
 "Eead it," he said. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski glanced at it and cried: 
 
 "A promotion!" 
 
 And, putting hiA arm round Skshetuski's neck, he kissed 
 him on both cheeks. The colonel's full dignity in a hussar 
 regiment was almost the highest rank. The prince himself 
 was captain in the regiment in which Skshetuski served, and 
 Pan Suffchynski from Siench was nominally colonel; but he 
 was an old man and had long since retired from active service. 
 Skshetuski had for some time performed the duties of both 
 positions, which often occurred in other regiments where the 
 two chief positions were often only by courtesy or honorary 
 positions. The king, himself, was captain of the royal regi- 
 ment and the primate himself was captain of the primate's 
 regiment. The officers in both regiments, high court ofii- 
 oials, also served actually as lieutenants and colonels. Such 
 a lieutenant ox rather colonel was Skshetuski, but there was a 
 great difference between the mere exercise of the duties, be- 
 tween the honorary dignity and the real rank. At this in- 
 stance, however, through this appointment;, Skshetuski had 
 become one of the first ofiicers of the Voyevoda of Kussia. 
 
 But, while his friends were shouting for joy and wishing 
 him happiness on his promotion, Skshetuski's features re- 
 mained fixed and calm; his face bore the same petrified, stern 
 expression. For there were no dignities nor honors in the 
 world that could now cheer him or give him any happiness. 
 He rose, however, and went to thank the prince, and little 
 
.62 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski went io his own quarters, rubbing his 
 hands. 
 
 "Well, well," he said, "to be appointed colonel of a hussar 
 regiment; that very seldom happens to such a young man; 
 indeed never!" 
 
 "If God would only give him back his happiness," said 
 Zagloba. 
 
 "Did you notice that he did not move a muscle?" 
 
 "He would willingly resign," said Longin. 
 
 "I do not wonder, sir," sighed Zagloba. "I would give my 
 five fingers here for her, although I took a flag with them." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, yes!" 
 
 "Then Pan Suffchynski must have died," remarked Vo- 
 lodiyovski. 
 
 "Probably he is dead." 
 
 "Who will then get the lieutenancy? The ensign is so 
 young and only saw his first service at Konstantinov." 
 
 This question remained undecided, but Colonel Skshetuski 
 himself brought the answer: 
 
 "Sir," he said, turning to Popbipyenta, "the prince has ap- 
 pointed you lieutenant." 
 
 "Oh God! Oh God!" groaned Longin, holding his hands as 
 if for prayer. 
 
 "He might just as well have appointed, his Lithuanian 
 mare." growled Zagloba. 
 
 "Well, and the expedition?" asked Pan Volodiyovski. 
 
 "We are to start without delay," answered Skshetuski. 
 
 "How many men has the prince commanded us to take?" 
 
 "A Cossack and a Wallachian squadron, altogether five 
 hundred men." 
 
 "Ha! That is a military expedition not a scouting party; 
 but, if that is the case, it is time to set out." 
 
 "Let us set out! Let us set out!" repeated Zagloba. 
 "Perhaps God may help us to get some news." 
 
 Two hours later, as the sun was setting, the four friends 
 rode away from the Cholhanski towards the South. Almost 
 at the same moment the commander with his men left the 
 camp. A number of ofiicers from the difEerent regiments, 
 came to see these last set out, amid cries and insults. The 
 officers formed a circle round Pan Kushel who was telling 
 them the reason why this man had been sent away and how it 
 had happened. 
 
 "I brought him the prince's order," said Pan Kushel, "and, 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 463 
 
 believe me, honored sirs, it was an important errand; for, 
 when he read it, he began to below like an ox when he is 
 branded. He wanted to spring on me with his battle-axe and 
 I wondered that he did not strike me. But it seems that he saw 
 through the windows Pan Korytski's Germans, who were 
 surrounding his quarters, and my dragoons, with their musk- 
 ets in their hands, and then he began to shout: 
 
 "Well, well; I will go if I am driven out. I will go to 
 Prince Dominik wiho will receive me kindly. I will not," he 
 continued, "serve among beggars any longer, but I will re- 
 venge myself,' he screamed, 'as true as I am Lashch, and I 
 will get satisfaction from that creature!' I thought he would 
 choke with rage and he chopped the table in several places 
 with his axe. And I must tell you, honored sirs, that I am 
 not sure that some evil may not happen to Pan Skshetuski, 
 for one cannot trifle with Pan Lashch. He is a hard, proud 
 man who never let an insult go unpunished, and he is coura- 
 geous; and, besides that, he is a 'dignitary.' " 
 
 "What could happen to Skshetuski while under the pro- 
 tection of the prince?" said one of the officers, "although he 
 might be capable of anything this Pan Lashch, he would cer- 
 tainly respect the prince's mighty hand." 
 
 Meanwhile, the lieutenant not dreaming of the designs 
 which Pan Lashch had formed against him, was riding at 
 the head of his division and getting farther and farther away 
 in the direction of Ojygovtsa towards the Bug and Medvi- 
 edovki. Although September had dyed all the leaves yellow, 
 the night was as clear and warm as in July, as it had been 
 almost for the whole year. For there had been hardly any 
 winter and, in Spring, everything had blossomed out at once 
 where, in other years, deep snow lay on the steppes. After a 
 very wet summer, the early autumn months were dry and 
 mild, -with clear days and bright nights. They rode forward 
 therefore, at a good pace; not especially carefully, as they 
 were still too near the camp to fear an attack. They rode 
 fast, the Heutenant ait their head with several horses; and, 
 with him Volodiyovski, Zagloba and Longin. 
 
 "Look, gentlemen, how the moonlight lies on the hill. 
 One could almost swear it was daylight. There is a saying 
 that it is only in war times that we have such nights, so that 
 the souls that leave their bodies may not strike their heads 
 against the trees in the dark, like sparrows, against the beams 
 in a barn; and may find their way more easily. This is Fri- 
 
464 
 
 WITR FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 day, too, the day of the Lord, on which no poisonous vapors 
 rise from the ground, and no evil spirits can approacli men. 
 I feel happier and a ray of hope is dawning.in my soul." 
 
 "The best of all is, that we finally got away and are trying 
 to do something to rescue her," said Pan Volodiyovski. 
 
 "And the worst thing is to remain in one place with your 
 sorrow," said Zagloba, "as soon as one has mounted his horse, 
 despair falls gradually from o-ne's shoulders, until it is finally 
 completely shaken off."' 
 
 "I do not believe," whispered Volodiyovski, "that one can 
 shake oft' everything, for example, a feeling which has fas- 
 tened itself in your heart like a leech." 
 
 "If it is sincere," said Longin, "it conquers you, even if you 
 fight with it as you would with a bear." 
 
 Longin reUeved his pent up feeUngs by a deep sigh, that 
 resembled a puff from a blacksmith's bellows. Little Volodi- 
 yovski, however, raised his eyes to heaven as if he would 
 search the very stars that were also beaming on Princess 
 Barbara. 
 
 The horses of the whole company began to snox- and the 
 riders answered them with "Sdrov, Sdrov!"' (Health! health!) 
 Then all was silent until a melancholy voice in the rear began 
 sing: 
 
 " Thou marcbest to war, poor little one 
 Thou marcbest to war ! 
 Thy nights in the open sky, 
 Thy days sultry." 
 
 "Old soldiers say that, when horses snort, it is a sign of 
 good luck, ily deceased father used to tell me that," said 
 Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Something tells me that we are not riding on a fool's 
 errand," answered Zagloba. 
 
 "(lod grant that comfort may come to the colonel's breast," 
 sighed Longin. 
 
 Zagloba turned round and nodded his head, like a man who 
 cannot get rid of his thoughts. Presently he said: 
 
 "Altogether there is something quite remarkable in my 
 mind and, in any case, I must tell you my thoughts, for T can- 
 not endure them any longer. See here, have you not noticed 
 that for some time, Skshetuski — I do not know, I may be mis- 
 taken — but it seems to me as if he thought less than any of 
 us about rescuing that poor girl." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 465 
 
 "Wliat are you talking about!" answered Volodiyovski. 
 "That is only his temperament. He will never betray his 
 feelings." 
 
 "He was always that way." 
 
 "That does not matter now. Do you remember, sir, when 
 we gave him some hope, he only said 'God reward you. Me 
 and you!' as indifferently as though it were a question of any- 
 thing else in the world. And God kno^s, it is black ingrati- 
 tude on his part; for, how the poor thing longed for him, and 
 how she cried on his account, would more than cover an ox- 
 hide with writing. I witnessed it myself." 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski shook his head. 
 
 "It cannot be that he has given her up," said he, "although 
 it is true that when we first saw him, when that devil had 
 taken her from him in Eozloga, he was so desperate that we 
 feared for his reason. But he is much more rational now. 
 It is better if God has given him strength and peace in his 
 soul. As his true friends we ought to be glad of it." 
 
 As he said this, Volodiyovski put spurs to his horse and 
 rode forward to join Skshetuski, while Zagloba remained some 
 time in silence beside Pan Podbipyenta. 
 
 "Do you not think with me that if it were not for love, 
 there would be much less wickedness in the world?" 
 
 "Whatever God has ordained will come to pass," answered 
 the Lithuanian. 
 
 "Oh, you never stick to the point. This is something totally 
 different. Why was Troy taken? Eh? Will not this war be 
 carried on on account of fair tresses? Khmyelnitski longed 
 for Ghaplinski's wife, or perhaps Chaplinski wanted Khmyel- 
 nitski's wife and, on account of their sinful desires, we twist 
 necks." 
 
 "That was a dishonorable love, but there is a nobler kind 
 which, thank God, is the more usual." 
 
 "Now you answer more sensibly. Will you soon begin to 
 work in that vineyard. I heard that some one tied a scarf 
 round you when you set out for the war." 
 
 "Little brother, little brother!" . . . 
 
 "But the three heads are in your way. What?" 
 
 "Ah, yes, indeed." 
 
 "Well, then, I will tell you what: Make one good stroke 
 and cut off at a blow the heads of Khmyelnitski, the Khan, 
 and Bohun." 
 
 "If they would only put themselves in my way," answered 
 
 30 
 
4.66 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Longin, his eyes turned to heaven and his voice trembling 
 with emotion. 
 
 Meanwhile, Tolodiyovski rode beside SkshetusM and looked 
 at his deathlike face which gazed silently from under his 
 helmet, until he presently pushed his stirrup against Skshetu- 
 ski's. 
 
 ■'Yan/' he said, "it is a pity that you give yourself up to 
 your reflections." 
 
 "I am not thinking, I am only praying," answered Skshetu- 
 ski. 
 
 "That is a holy and praiseworthy occupation, but you are 
 not a monk that you should occupy yourself entirely with 
 praying." 
 
 Pan Yan slowly turned his martjrr face to Tolodiyovski 
 and asked, in a duU voice full of lifeless resignation: 
 
 "Tell me, dear Michael, what is left for me but to pray?" 
 
 ''It remains for you to. rescue her," answered Volodiyovski. 
 
 "I will do it — ^to my last breath, but, even if I find her 
 alive, will it not be too late? God help me. I could bear any- 
 thing else, but not that. God save my reason. I desire noth- 
 ing further than to snatch her from those accursed hands. 
 Then, she may seek refuge where I shall also seek it. It was 
 e\'identl}' not the will of God. . . . Let me pray, ilichael, 
 and do not reopen my bleeding wounds." .... 
 
 Tolodiyovski's heart was oppressed. He would willingly 
 have comforted him, have whispered hope; but the words 
 would not pass his laps, so they rode on in gloomy silence. 
 Skshetuski's Ups moved quickly in prayer, by which means 
 he endeavored to drive away his dreadful thoughts, and the 
 little knight was really frightened when the moonlight shone 
 on that face; for it seemed to him as though it were the very 
 face of a monk, wasted by penance and fasting and mortifica- 
 tion. 
 
 " Thou shalt find after the war is over, 
 poor little one, 
 Thou shalt find after the war is over 
 Desolation at home 
 And your body full of wounds. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Pan Skshetuski made an effort to advance in such a way 
 that he and his men might rest by day in the woods and 
 ravines carefully stationing numerous sentinels around them, 
 pushing forward at night. Wherever they approached a vil- 
 lage, he generally surrounded it so that none could come out. 
 He collected provisions, food for the horses, and, above all, 
 he gathered news of the enemy; then he moved onward with- 
 out doing the people any harm. Aftej he had left, however, 
 he soon changed his route so that the enemy might not be able 
 to find out in the village in what direction he had gone. The 
 object of the expedition was to learn whether Kshyvonos was 
 besieging Kamenets with his forty thousand men; or, if he 
 had given up the useless seige and gone to help Khmyelnitski, 
 so as to fight a decisive battle; and, also to find out whether 
 the Tartars of the Dobrudja were doing, whether they had al- 
 ready crossed the Dniester and united with Kshyvonos, or if 
 they were still on the other side. This was very important in- 
 formation for the Polish camp, and the Commanders them- 
 selves should have striven to gather it. As, however, it never 
 came into their minds, for they were inexperienced, the A^'oye- 
 voda of Eussia took his burden upon himself. Should it turn 
 out that Kshyvonos with the hordes of Byalogrod and Dob- 
 rudja had given up besieging the hitherto impregnable Kam- 
 enets and have joined Khmyelnitski, it would be necessary to 
 attack the latter as soon as possible, before his power had 
 reached its fullest extent. Meanwhile, the general of the 
 army, Prince Dominik Zaslavski-Ostrogski did not hurry him- 
 self and, when Skshetuski set out, he was not expected in the 
 camp for two or three days. He was probably carousing on 
 the way, as was his custom, and was enjoying a good time; 
 and meanwhile, the moment was passing, in which Khmy- 
 elnitski's power could be broken. And Prince Yeremy de- 
 spaired at the thought, that if the war was carried on any 
 longer in this manner, not only Kshyvonos would reach 
 Khmyelnitski with the Tartar hordes from the Dniester, but 
 
 467 
 
468 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 even the Ivhan, himself, with all his forces from Perekop, 
 Noha}', and from Azov. 
 
 There were even rumors in the camp that the Khan had 
 already crossed the Dnieper and was marching, day and night, 
 with two hundred thousand horse; and still Prince Dominik 
 did not arrive. It became more and more probable that the 
 army that was stationed at the Cholhanski Kamyen would 
 have to encounter a force of five times its size and if the com- 
 manders suffered defeat, would no longer be able to hinder the 
 enemy from penetrating into the very heart of the Common- 
 wealth to Cracow and Warsaw. 
 
 Kshyvonos was the more dangerous because, in case the 
 commanders should try to make their way into the heart of 
 the Ukraine, he could go directly from Kamenets towards the 
 north, to Konstantinov, and thus cut otT their retreat. And 
 they would, in any case, be between two fires. Therefore 
 Pan Skshetuski resolved not to wait for news of Kshyvonos 
 but to check him. Quite carried away by the importance of 
 his task, on the success of which depended the fate of the 
 whole army, the lieutenant joyfully risked his life and that 
 of his soldiers. But this undertaking might be considered 
 the act of a madman if the young knight had intended with 
 his five hundred men to attack Kshyvonos' division which had 
 been strengthened by the addition of the hordes of Byalo- 
 grod and Dobrudja. 
 
 But Pan Skshetuski was much too experienced a soldier to 
 undertake any such folly. He knew well that, in case of a 
 battle, within an hour a wave of men would be riding over the 
 dead bodies of himself and his companions; so he thought of 
 other plans. First he spread the news among his soldiers, 
 that they were going out as an advance guard of the whole 
 division of the terrible Prince; and his news was told from 
 mouth to mouth in all the country seats, villages, and little 
 towns through which they had passed. It spread with the 
 speed of lightning along the shores of the Zbrucha, Smotry- 
 cha, Studzienicy, TJushki, Kalusiku, and, following their 
 course, reached the Dniester and beyond there, as if wafted by 
 the wind, from Kamenets to Yahorlik. It was repeated by 
 the Turkish pashas in Khotsim, by the Zaporojians in Yam- 
 pol, and by the Tartars in Eashkov; and the well-known cry 
 "Yeremy is comingl" resounded everywhere, and filled with 
 terror the hearts of the rebels, who trembled with horror, and 
 never felt secure by day or night. 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. ^69 
 
 And no one doubted the truth of the rumor. It seemed 
 quite natural that the commanders should attack Khmyel- 
 nitski and that Yeremy should attack Kshyvonos; such was 
 the situation. The latter believed it himself and let his hands 
 fall inactive at his sides. 
 
 What should he do? Go to meet the prince? His forces 
 were greater at Konstantinov and a different spirit ruled the 
 "blacks;" and, yet, they were beaten, their ranks broken to 
 pieces and they hardly escaped with their lives. Kshyvonos 
 was convinced that his Cossacks would fight like madmen with 
 any other army of the Commonwealth, under any other leader; 
 but at the approach of Yeremy's army, they would all fly 
 asunder like a flock of swans before an eagle, like the thistle- 
 down of the steppes before a wind. 
 
 To wait for the prince at Kamenets was still worse. Kshy- 
 vonos resolved to turn towards the East, and go as far as 
 Bratslav, to dodge his evil genius and to try and reach Khmy- 
 elnitski. It was certain that by making this detour he would 
 not reach Khmyelnitski as soon as he ought, and in time to. 
 fight; but he would hear the results and, besides, have time 
 to think of his own safety. Meanwhile, the wind bore other 
 news; that Khmyelnitski had been killed. Skshetuski was 
 the first to spread the rumor. The unlucky Kshyvonos did 
 not know at first what he ought to do. 
 
 He decided, finally, to turn in the direction of the East and 
 to penetrate as far as possible into the steppes. Perhaps he 
 might come across Tartars and take refuge with them. Before 
 all things, however, he wanted to be certain; so he sought care- 
 fully among his officers one who was reliable and fearless 
 enough for him to send out with a detachment to gain infor- 
 mation. The choice was difficult. There were not many who 
 had any desire for such an enterprise, and for this mission 
 one needed a man who would not let himself be compelled 
 through the torture of fire, the fear of the stake or the wheel, 
 to utter a word regarding Kshyvonos' plans of flight. 
 
 Finally Kshyvonos found one. 
 
 One night he sent to Bohun and said to him: 
 
 "Listen, Yurku, my friend! Yeremy is marching towards 
 us with a large army and we, unhappy ones, are lost." 
 
 "I also heard that he was coming. We spoke of it, little 
 father, before now; but why should it be all up with us." 
 
 "We cannot conquer him, we might another, but not Yere- 
 my. The Cossacks are afraid of him." 
 
^yo WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "But I am not afraid of him — I conquered one of his regi- 
 ments, the other side of the Dnieper." 
 
 "1 know that you do not fear him. Your fame as a Cos- 
 sack, as a warrior, may well compare with his fame as a 
 prince; but I cannot give him battle, for my people wUl not. 
 Do you not recollect what they said at the council? How they 
 all wanted to attack me with their swords because I, as they 
 said, wanted to lead them to a butchery?" 
 
 "Well, let us go to Khmyelnitski. There we shall get 
 blood and men." 
 
 "They say that Khmyelnitski has already been beaten by 
 the commanders." 
 
 "I do not believe that. Father Maxim. Khmyelnitski is a 
 fox; without the Tartars he would not dare attack the Poles." 
 
 "I agree with you, but we must have certainty. If anyone 
 who was not afraid of Yeremy would set out with some scouts 
 and try and take a prisoner who could give us news I would 
 give him a cup full of red golden crowns." 
 
 "I will go. Father Maxim, not for the sake cf the red gold, 
 but for the glory of a soldier and of a Cossack." 
 
 "You, the second Ataman under me, you will go? You will 
 certainly yet be the first ataman of the Cossacks and have 
 good soldiers under you, for you do not fear Yeremy. Go, 
 you falcon, and then ask what you wish. I will say to you 
 that if you were not going, I should go myself; but I must 
 not." 
 
 "You must not, for, if you should go, father, the soldiers 
 would cry out that their commander had fled; and they would 
 scatter themselves all over the world. But, if I go, they will 
 gain fresh courage." 
 
 "And what escort shall I give you?" 
 
 "I will not take many men. It is easier to hide and to creep 
 about with a small number. But give me five hundred brave, 
 young fellows and I will wager my head on it that I wiU bring 
 you some prisoners with information, not any chance ones, 
 but soldiers from whom you may learn everything." 
 
 "Start at once. In Kamenets they are already firing can- 
 non for Joy to welcome the Poles, who will destroy us, in- 
 nocent ones." 
 
 Bohun left and began at once, to get ready for his Journey. 
 His men were drinking, as was the custom on such occasions, 
 for slaughter in case Mother Death should take them. And 
 he drank with them till he foamed at the mouth and raged 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 471 
 
 and stormed. And then he had a barrel of tar opened and, 
 just as he was fully dressed, he threw himself into it, dived 
 about in it twice so that his head was covered and called out: 
 
 "I am black as Mother Night. Poles' eyes will not recog- 
 nize me." 
 
 And then, after he had rolled about in Turkish rugs that 
 he had taken as booty, and rubbed the tar ofE to some extent, 
 he sprang upon his horse and rode off, followed by his faith- 
 ful warriors in the shadow of the darkness. 
 
 "To honor! To happiness!" 
 
 In the meantime Skshetuski had already reached Yarmo- 
 liets. There he had met with resistance, had bathed the in- 
 habitants in blood; and, after he had informed them that on 
 the following day Prince Yeremy would arrive, he allowed his 
 weary soldiers and horses to rest. He assembled his com- 
 rades for a council and said to them: 
 
 "So far God has led us safely. I have remarked also, from 
 the terror which seems to have seized the peasantry, that 
 they take us for the advance-guard of the prince and believe 
 that the whole army is following us, but we must be careful 
 they do not observe that we are only one party going every- 
 where." 
 
 "And how long shall we have to go thus?" said Zagloba. 
 
 "Until we find out what Kshyvonos has determined to do." 
 
 "Pshaw! Then we shall probably not get back to the 
 camp in time for the battle." 
 
 "That is possible," answered Skshetuski. 
 
 "I am not at all satisfied, sir," said the nobleman, "our 
 hands got somewhat into practice on the rebels at Konstan- 
 tinov. We beat a few men there, but that is like a fiy for a 
 dog. My fingers itch for more. ..." 
 
 "You may perhaps enjoy more battles, here, than you 
 think," answered Skshetuski earnestly. 
 
 "Oh, how's that?" said Zagloba very uneasily. 
 
 "Because, any fine day, we may come across the enemy. 
 And, although we are not here in order to get in his way with 
 our weapons, still we shall be obliged to defend ourselves. 
 But, to come to the point. We must cover a wider stretch 
 of the territory, so that they may hear of us in different places 
 at the same time, and we must here and there cut down those 
 that withstand us, in order to spread fear, and to scatter the 
 same rumor abroad. That is why I think we ought to divide 
 our forces." 
 
 "I think the same," said Volodiyovski. "We want to make 
 
^j2 "'^J'fi f^^E ^^^ SWORD. 
 
 ourselves seem as many as possible, in order that those who 
 escape may give Kshyvonos news that hundreds of thousands 
 are coming." 
 
 ■'Lieutenant, you are our leader. It is for you to com- 
 mand," said Podbipyenta. 
 
 "Well, I will go through Zinkov to Solodkovtsa, and if pos- 
 sible still farther,"' said Skshetuski. "You, Lieutenant Pod- 
 bipyenta, will go straight out in the direction of Tatazysk, 
 and you Michael ride to Kupin, and Pan Zagloba will ride to 
 Zbrucha near Satanova." 
 
 '"I?" said Zagloba. 
 
 "I have said it. You are a cunning man and full of good 
 ideas. I thought you would like to undertake this command, 
 but if that is not the case. Sergeant Kosmach may take the 
 fourth division." 
 
 "He will take it, but under my command," cried Zagloba, 
 on whom it suddenly dawned that he was to be leader of an 
 especial division. "I merely asked because I was sorry to be 
 separated from you." 
 
 "Have you had experience in military affairs?" asked 
 Volodiyovski. 
 
 ■'Have I had experience! Xo stork had yet thought of 
 bringing you as a present to your father and mother, when I 
 was already leading larger divisions of scouts than these. I 
 have served for an age in the army and would serve yet if it 
 had not happened that a solitary biscuit had remsdned sta- 
 tionary in my stomach for three years. I was obliged to go 
 on a pilgrimage to Galatz, — ^but I will tell you about this pil- 
 grimage at some other time, for it is time now to set out." 
 
 '■Start in at once, gentlemen, and spread the news every- 
 wlvere that EZhmyelnitski has already been beaten and that the 
 prince has passed Roskirov," said Skshetuski. "Do not take 
 any mean prisoner that you may chance to come across, but 
 try and find some scouts from Kametets who can give you 
 news about Kshyvonos, for those that we have taken give con- 
 tradictory reports.'" 
 
 "If I could only meet Kshyvonos myself. If he would 
 only take it into his head to ride out on a scouting expedition, 
 I would give him pepper and ginger. Fear nothing, gentle- 
 men, I will teach these vagabonds to sing, yes, even to dance." 
 
 In three days, we will meet again in Yarmolints, and now, 
 each go your way," said Skshetuski, "and spare your men, 
 gentlemen." 
 
 In three days in Yarmolints," repeated Zagloba, Volodiyov- 
 ski and Podbipyenta. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 As soon as Zagloba found himself alone at the head of hit 
 division, he began to feel uneasy, and even sad. He would 
 have given a great deal if Skshetuski, Volodiyovski, or Lon- 
 gin had been at his side; all of whom he admired with his 
 whole heart, with whom he felt perfectly secure and in whose 
 valor and caution he believed blindly. 
 
 He rode gloomily, therefore, at the head of his men, look- 
 ing mistrustfully round him on all sides, reviewing in his 
 mind all the dangers that might happen to him, and growled : 
 
 "It would have been much more jolly if one of them had 
 been with me. When God fits a man for anything he pro- 
 vides the work for him to do. The three ought to have been 
 born horse-flies, for they love to be in the midst of blood. 
 They are as happy in war as another would be with the 
 pitcher, or as a fish in water. That is their business. Light 
 bellies, but heavy fists. I have seen Skshetuski at work and 
 know that he is an expert. He handles men as the rnoriks 
 do their pravers. That is his favorite trade. That Lithu- 
 anian, who has no head of his own and is looking for three 
 strange heads, has nothing to lose. I am least well acquainted 
 with the little fellow. To Judge by what I saw at Konstan- 
 tinov, and by what Skshetuski has said of him, he must be 
 a hornet. Fortunately, he is not very far from, me and I 
 think it will be better for me to join him, for may the 
 ducks tread me if I know which way I have to go." 
 
 Zagloba felt very much alone in the world, so much so that 
 he began to pity himself. 
 
 "Yes, yes," he grunted, "each one has somebody upon 
 whom they can depend and I — not a companion, no father, 
 no mother; 1 am an orphan — but enough." 
 
 At this moment Sergeant Kosmach approached him. 
 
 "Commander, where are we going?" 
 
 "Where are we going?" repeated Zagloba, "what?" 
 
 Suddenly, he straightened himself in his saddle and twisted 
 his moustache, "To Kamenets if I desire it! Do you under- 
 stajid, sir?" 
 
 473 
 
474 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 The sergeant bowed and drew silently back to join his 
 companions, without being able to understand why the com- 
 mander should have been so angry. Zagloba, however, cast 
 a few more threatening looks around him and then became 
 cahn and continued, to himself: 
 
 "If I go to Kamenets you may give me a hundred strokes 
 of the bastinado, Turkish fashion. Tut! Tut! If only one 
 of them were with me, I should feel more courage. What can 
 I do with a hundred men. I would rather be alone and then 
 I would trust my own judgment. Xow, there are too many 
 of us to be able to use craft, and too few to be of any service 
 in defence. It was an unfortunate thought of Skshetuski's, 
 to divide the patrol. And whither shall I go? I know what 
 lies behind me, but who can tell me what lies before me and 
 who can assure me that the devil has not laid a trap for me 
 somewhere. Kshyvonos and Bohun are a nice pair. May the 
 devil flay them alive! God preserve me from Bohun at least! 
 Skshetuski is anxious to meet him. May the Lord grant his 
 wish! I wish for him whatever he wishes for himself, for I 
 am his friend. Amen. I will go to Zbrueha and come back 
 to Yarmolints and bring him some spies; more than he 
 wishes. There will be no trouble about that.'" 
 
 Kosmach approached him again: 
 
 "Commander, behind the rise, we can see some horsemen." 
 
 "May they ride to the devil! Where? Where?" 
 
 "There, behind the hiU; I saw their pennants." 
 
 "Soldiers, then?'' 
 
 "So it seems." 
 
 "May the dogs bite them! Are they many?" 
 
 "I do not know. They are still at some distance. If we 
 were to hide behind these rocks, we might attack them un- 
 awares; as they must pass by here. If there should be many 
 of them, Volodiyovski is not far off and he would hear the 
 shots and come to our assistance." 
 
 Zagloba's courage suddenly increased and flew to his head, 
 like wine. Perhaps despair may have given him this impulse 
 for action. Perhaps, also, the hope that Pan Voldiyovski 
 might be near by. In any case, he rolled his eyes frightfully, 
 drew his word, that flashed, and cried: 
 
 "Hide behind the rocks! We will attack them unawares. 
 We will show these scoundrels." 
 
 The prince's practised soldiers turned toward the rocks ind 
 placed themselves in readiness for a sudden attack. 
 
WITH VIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 475 
 
 An hour had already passed when the noise of approaching 
 riders was heard. This was accompanied by the echo of 
 joyous songs and^ presently, those in hiding heard the sounds 
 of a violin, of bagpipes, and of a little drum. The sergeant 
 approached Pan Zagloba and said: 
 
 "Those are not soldiers. Colonel, not Cossacks. It is a 
 wedding." 
 
 "A wedding!" said Zagloba, "I will play them a trick; you 
 shall see." As he said this, he put spurs to his hoTse, the 
 soldiers following him, and placed himself in the middle of 
 the road. 
 
 "Follow me!" cried Zagloba. The column moved forward 
 at a trot and then changed into a gallop and, when they came 
 from behind the rocks, they stood still suddenly before the 
 procession, who were frightened and confused at this un- 
 expected sight. 
 
 "Halt! Halt!" was heard from both sides. 
 
 It was, indeed, a peasant's wedding. The bagpipes, the 
 drummers and the fiddler rode at their head, with two jesters 
 who were already half drunk, and were making jokes. Be- 
 hind them came the bride, a fresh looking girl in a dark dress, 
 with long hair hanging over her shoulders. She was sur- 
 rounded by her bridesmaids, who were singing, and carried 
 wreaths in their hands. All the girls rode astride; they 
 were adorned with wild flowers and, in the distance, looked 
 like a crowd of gaudy Cossacks. Behind, them came the 
 bridegroom on a big horse, surrounded by friends carrying 
 wreaths on long sticks like pikes. The procession closed with 
 the bridegroom's parents and the guests. All were on horse- 
 back; and the barrels of gorzalka, mead and beer were drawn 
 in little wagons made of plaited straw, and the liquid 
 gurgled on the rough uneven road in a most tantalizing 
 manner. 
 
 "Stand still! Stand still!" was again heard from both 
 parties and they fled to either side. The joyful band was in 
 confusion. The girls gave a piercing suriek and drew back. 
 The servants, however, and the older men sprang forward 
 in order to protect the girls from the unexpected attack. 
 Zagloba sprang forward close to them and, flourishing his 
 sword right under the eyes of the terrified peasants, began to 
 scream: 
 
 "Ha! You shrivelled blockheads, you dogs' teeth, you 
 rebels! You want to mutiny! You belong to Krshyvonos 
 
476 ^^'Il'l flR^^ ^-""^ SWORD. 
 
 3-0U ragamuffins! You are going out as spies! You are send- 
 ing the soldiers in wrong directions! You are raising your 
 hands against the nobles! I wil show you, you vile souls of 
 dogs, I will have you placed on the block, impaled, oh, you 
 rascals, oh, you heathen, you shall now pay for all your 
 crimes!" 
 
 An old, white-headed wedding guest sprang from his horse, 
 approached the nobleman, took hold of his stirrup, bowed low 
 and said in a humble tone: 
 
 "Have mercy, illustrious knight, do not destroy us poor 
 people. God is our witness! We are not going to rebel. 
 We have just come from the church, from Hushiatyn, where 
 we have just married our relation Dymitri the blacksmith to 
 Xenia the cooper's daughter. We were just going to the 
 wedding feast with the dancers." 
 
 '"Those are innocent people, Sir," whispered the sergeant. 
 
 "Go away I They are rascals. They have been to a wed- 
 ding with Krshyvonos," shouted Zagloba. 
 
 ''May the plague take him!"' cried the old man. "We never 
 even saw him. We are poor people. Have mercy on us, il- 
 lustrious Colonel. Let us go on. We are doing no harm 
 to anyone and we know our duty." 
 
 ''You wiU go to Yarmolints in chains." 
 
 ""\Mierever you hke, sir! It is yours to command, ours to 
 obey; but grant us one mercy. Command your soldiers not 
 to harm us, and you yourself — pardon us simple people if 
 we entreat you humbly — drink with us to the health of the 
 married couple. Drink, your grace, to the welfare of us, 
 simple people; as God and the Holy Gospel have commanded." 
 
 "Do not think that I will overlook anything even if I do 
 drink," said Zagloba sharply. 
 
 "No sir,"' cried the old man joyfully, "we will not think 
 it."' 
 
 ''Hey! Hey! musicians," he cried, "play for the illustrious 
 Pole, or he is kind; and you boys, run and get the mead, 
 sweet mead, for our illustrious gentleman. He will not do the 
 poor people any harm. We thank the gentleman." 
 
 The young people set to work to open the barrels and 
 during this time, the drums sounded, the fiddle squeaked, the 
 bagpipers puffed out their cheeks and began to squeeze their 
 bagpipes and the bridemaidens waved the wreaths at the end 
 of their poles. When the soldiers saw this they came closer, 
 twisted their moustaches and looked laughingly across the 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^jy 
 
 shoulders of the young men, at the girls. The songs began 
 afresh, fear disappeared and here and there one even heard 
 joyous cries of "IJha! Uha!" 
 
 But Zagloba was not perfectly at ease; even when they 
 brought him a quart of mead, he still growled, "Oh you ras- 
 cals, you ragamuffins!" and, even when his moustache was 
 plunged into the dark surface of the draught, he looked into 
 the goblet gloomily. He raised his head and, blinking his 
 eyes, tasted the mead. As he smacked his lips, astonishment 
 but also anger were visible on his countenance. 
 
 "What times are these," he growled, "the mob drink such 
 mead as this! God, thou seest this and dos not strike thein 
 with a thunderbolt." 
 
 As he said this, he raised the mug and emptied it to the 
 bottom. The wedding guests, having gained confidence, now 
 approached him all together, and prayed him not to harm 
 them but let them continue their journey; and the bride 
 Xenia, rosy and beautiful as the dawn, but trembling and 
 with tears in her eyes, added her voice to the entreaties. She 
 folded her hands and kissing Zagloba's yellow boot, she said: 
 
 "Have mercy on us, sir." 
 
 The nobleman's heart melted like wax. 
 
 Loosening his leather belt, he seemed to be looking for 
 something, and finally brought forth the last golden crown 
 that he prince had given him. Handing this to the girl, he 
 said to her: 
 
 "Take this! God bless thee, as he does all innocence!" 
 
 His emotion prevented him from continuing, for this 
 slender dark eyed Xenia reminded him of the princess whom 
 Zagloba loved in his own way. "Where might the poor girl 
 be now? Were the Hoi Angels watching over her," he 
 thought, and he was so moved that he was just in a mood 
 to embrace them all as brothers. 
 
 The wedding guests, however, delighted at his generous 
 treatment, began to shout and sing for joy, to press towards 
 him and to kiss the flaps of his coat. "He is good!" they 
 repeated, "A golden Pole. He gives us red gold, does not 
 harm us, the kind gentleman. May he have glory and for- 
 tune!" The fiddler was dancing and playing his fiddle, the 
 bagpiper's eyes seem starting from his head and the drum- 
 me]?s hands fell at his sides. The old cooper, evidently a 
 born coward, who had kept himself in the background now 
 pressed forward with his wife and the blacksmith's old wife. 
 
478 WITH FIRE XSD SWORD. 
 
 mother of the bridegroom and, amid bowings, begged Za- 
 globa to come to the wedding at the farm with them; as it 
 would be a great honor for them to have such a guest and 
 a happy omen for the young couple; and it would not be right 
 not to come with them. The bridegroom and the black-eyed 
 Xenia were also urgent in their entreaties; for the simple 
 maiden had recognized at once that her people would derive 
 the most benefit. And the bridesmaids said that it was not 
 far to the farm; that the knights would not have to go out 
 of their way; and that the old cooper was rich and could tap 
 even better mead. Zagloba cast his eyes over his soldiers and 
 saw that they were as anxious as hares for a little enjoyment 
 and saw that the prospect of drink and dancing filled them 
 with anticipation and delight. As, however, they did not 
 dare to ask him on their own account, Zagloba took pity on 
 them, and, in a few minutes, the wedding procession and 
 the soldiers marched in the most beautiful harmony towards 
 the farm. 
 
 It was, as they said, not very far off; and, as the old cooper 
 was rich, the wedding feast was so abundant that they all got 
 very .drunk, and Zagloba became so merry that he took the 
 lead in everything. Remarkable ceremonies were performed. 
 The older women led Xenia into her bedroom and shut them- 
 selves in there with her. They remained there some time 
 and when they came out alone and announced that the bride 
 was like a dove, like a hly. Great joy immediately seized all 
 those assembled and loud shouts arose of "To glory! To 
 fortune!" The women clapped their hands and screamed, 
 "What? Did we not say it ?" The young men stamped their 
 feet and daiiced about, singly, holding their drinking-cups in 
 their hand; and, then, going to the door of the bedroom, 
 emptied the cup crying, "To glory!" Zagloba also danced, 
 upholding the dignity of his noble birth by driuking half a 
 gollon of mead instead of a cupful. Then the old cooper 
 and the blacksmith's wife led young Dymitri into the room 
 and as he had no father they begged Zagloba to act in that 
 capacity, to which he agreed at once and went in with them. 
 Now the room became quiet. The only noise that was heard 
 was made by the soldiers who were drinking in the courtyard 
 before the house amid the Tartar cries of "Allah," and the 
 firing of muskets. But the greatest joy broke forth when the 
 parents came back into the room. The old cooper hugged the 
 blacksmith's wife for joy. The young couple put their arms 
 
• WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^-g 
 
 round the feet of the the old cooper's wife and the women 
 congratulated themselves that they had preserved their 
 daughter as the apple of their eye like a little dove and as a 
 lily, upon which Zagloba took her by the hand and led her out 
 onthetioor. They tripped about, opposite each other. He clap- 
 ped his hands, bobbed dbwn, with his knees turned out, then, 
 suddenly bounded into the air, bringing his iron heels to the 
 floor with such a clatter that splinters flew from the planks 
 and great drops of perspiration came out on his forehead. 
 Other couples followed their example and, when there was no 
 room inside, they danced in the courtyard; the girls with the 
 young men and the soldiers. The cooper tapped fresh barrels 
 of mead. Soon, the whole wedding company went out into 
 the court before the house. They lighted bundles of brier 
 and pitch-pine, for it was already late and quite dark. The 
 revelry had become a drinking-bout and the soldiers were 
 firing off their rifles and muskets, as though they were in a 
 battle. Pan Zagloba, his face crimson, soaking with perspira- 
 tion and staggering, had completely forgotten what was going 
 on. Through the smoke that surrounded him, he saw the 
 faces of the revellers; but, if he had been threatened with a 
 stake, hf could not have told who they were. He remem- 
 bered he was at a wedding, — but whose? "Ha! It was 
 Skshetuski's wedding with the princess." This thought ap- 
 peared to him the most probable, for he could not get it out 
 of his head; and it filled him with such happiness that he 
 began to shout as if he were possessed: "Long may they 
 live! Gentlemen and brothers! Let us love one another!" 
 and he emptied another half-gallon of mead. "Take your 
 glasses, brothers! To the 'health of our illustrious prince! 
 May all go well with us. If only this paroxsym might pass 
 by!" 
 
 Here, he burst into tears and, as he walked towards the 
 barrel, his gait grew more and more unsteady, especially as 
 there lay on the floor a number of apparently lifeless bodies, 
 as on a field of battle. "Oh God," cried Zagloba, "there are 
 no more brave men in the Commonwealth; but one. Pan 
 Lashch knows how to drink; the other is Zagloba — and the 
 rest, God! God!" he turned his eyes sadly towards the 
 sky, and noticed that the heavenly bodies no longer looked 
 like golden buttons in the firmament, but some of them 
 trembled as though they were about to spring from heir 
 places; others described circles, and others seemed to be 
 
48o WITH FIRE A-VD SWORD. . 
 
 dancing the "Ck)ssack" opposite one another. Zagloba was 
 more and more astonished and said to himself, 
 ■'Am I the only sober person in this world?" 
 But, presently, the earth seemed to tremble, just as the 
 stars were doing. It turned round in a mad whirl, and Za- 
 globa fell his fuU length on the ground. He was soon troubled 
 with bad dreams. It seemed to him as if he had a mountain 
 on his chest, which was crushing him to the ground and bind- 
 ing him hand and foot. At the same time, his ears were 
 filled with a noise of what sounded like firearms. A blinding 
 light flashed over his closed eyelids and hurt his eyes dread- 
 fully. He tried to get up to open his eyes, but he could not; 
 he felt that something unusual was happening to him; that 
 his head was falling backward, as if it did not belong to him. 
 Presently, a dreadful fear came upon him. He felt sick, very 
 sick, very heavy. He soon regained his senses; but, strange 
 to say, he was so intensely weak that he could not remember 
 ever having experienced a similar sensation. He tried to 
 move but could not do so. Then he became perfectly wide 
 awake and opened his eyelids. As he did so, his eyes met 
 another pair of eyes, that were fastened on him intently. 
 They were coal-black eyes, and had such an evil expression 
 that Zagloba, now perfectly wide awake, thought at the first 
 moment that his Satanic Majesty was looking at him, and 
 closed his eyes quickly; to open them again, just as quickly. 
 These eyes continued to look at him obstinately — ^the face 
 seemed familiar. Suddenly, Zagloba trembled, to his very 
 marrow, a cold sweat covered him and all down his back thou- 
 sands of ants seemed to be crawling. 
 He had recognized Bohun's face. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Zagloba lay bound, his hands and feet trussed with his own 
 swoxd, in the very room in which the wedding had taken 
 place; and the terrible Chieftain sat beside him on a stool and 
 looked with evident enjoyment at his prisoner's terror. 
 
 "Good evening, sir," he said, when he noticed his victim's 
 eyes were opened. 
 
 Zagloba did not answer, but in a moment he was as sober 
 as though no drop of mead ever passed his lips. Only a sen- 
 sation, as if ants were creeping down to his heels and came 
 back to his head, and the' marrow in his bones seemed turning 
 +0 ice. It is said that a drowning man at the last moment 
 oees clearly his whole past; that he remembers everything, 
 and is conscious of all that is happening to him. This bright 
 vision and memory was Zagloba's experience at this moment; 
 but the only evidence of this clairvoyance was the silent, un- 
 spoken cry: 
 
 "Now he will flay me!" 
 
 And the Chieftain repeated in quiet tones: 
 
 "Good evening, sir." 
 
 "Ugh!" thought Zagloba, "I wish he would fly into a rage." 
 
 "Do you not recognize me, noble sir?" 
 
 "I bow, I greet you! How is your health?" 
 
 "Not bad. And yours, I myself will take care of." 
 
 "I did not ask God for such a physician, and I doubt if I 
 could digest your medicine; but God's will be done." 
 
 "Well; you cured me; Now I will repay you. We are old 
 friends. Do you remember how you tied up my head in 
 Rozloga? Eh?" 
 
 Bohun's eyes gleamed like two carbuncles and a horrible 
 laugh came from his lips. 
 
 "I remember," said Zagloba, "that I could have stabbed 
 you, and I did not do it." 
 
 "And I, did I stab you? or do I think of doing it? No, 
 you are my friend, my beloved. I will guard you as the eye." 
 
 "I always said that you were a noble knight," said Zagloba, 
 31 481 
 
482 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 pretending that he took Bohun's words in earnest; but at the 
 same time the thought came into his mind, "I see that he is 
 preparing something quite special for me. I shall not die 
 any ordinary deaith." 
 
 "You have well said," sneered Bohun, "you are also a 
 noble knight, we have sought and found each other." 
 
 "To tell the truth, I did not seek you, but I thank you for 
 your kind words." 
 
 "You will thank me more, later, and I will thank you for 
 taking the girl from Eozloga and bringing her to Bar where 
 I foimd hex. And now, I should like to ask you to the wed- 
 ding; but it is not to-day nor to-morrow. Now id; is war and 
 you are an old man; perhaps you wiU not survive it." 
 
 In spite of the terrible position in which he found himself, 
 Zagloba pricked up his ears: 
 
 "To tie wedding?" he growled. 
 
 "And what do you suppose?" said Bohun. "Am I a peas- 
 ant thait I should take possession of her without a priest? 
 Or, perhaps it might occur to me to be married in Kiev. 
 You did not bring her to Bar for a peasant but for an ataman 
 and a hetman. . . ." 
 
 "Good," thought Zagloba. 
 
 Then, turning his head towards Bohun, "Take those fet- 
 ters off me," he said. 
 
 "Lie still! Lie stiU! You are going to take a journey and 
 you're old and must rest beforehand." 
 
 "Whither are you going to take me?" 
 
 'TTou are my friend; I will take you to my other friend, to 
 Kshyvonos. We will both see that you are well taken care 
 of over there." 
 
 "It mil be warm," growled the nobleman, and, again the 
 ants began to crawl through his frame. Finally, he said: 
 
 "I know that you hate me, but unjustly, unjustly, God 
 knows. We lived together and in Chigrin we drank many a 
 bottle of wane together, for I took a fatherly interest in you 
 on account of your knightly exploits; and you could not have 
 foimd a better friend in the whole of TJkraina. And now, 
 did I get in your way? If I had not ridden with you to Eoz- 
 loga. we should be the best friends in the world to-day. And 
 why would I have gone with you if I had not liked you? 
 And if you had not been enraged you would not have killed 
 those unfortunate people and, (God is my witness) I would 
 not have opposed you. What do I care about other people's 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 483 
 
 affairs? I would rather you had ithe girl than any other but, 
 amid your Tartar wooing, my conscience reproached me for 
 that was a noble house. You yourself would not have acted 
 differently. I could have put you out of the world, to my 
 own advantage — and yet I did not do it because I am a noble- 
 man and was ashamed of such an act. So be ashamed of 
 yourself, for I know ihat you will avenge yourself on me. 
 The girl is in your hands; what more do you want from me? 
 Did I not guard her, your greatest treasure, as the apple of 
 my eye. That you have not wronged her, is a proof that you 
 also possess knightly honor and conscience. But how can 
 you give her your hand that you have stained with my guilt- 
 less blood; how say to her, 'I have given over to torture that 
 man who led you safely among the Tartars and through the 
 peasant mob. You are yet young and do not know what may 
 happen to you; and, for my death, God will punish you in 
 what is dearest to you." 
 
 Bohun sprang from his stool, pale with rage, and, stepping 
 up to Zagloba, said, in a voice choking with fury. 
 
 "You unclean boar! I will have straps torn from you, I 
 will roast you on a slow fire, will drive nails in your body, and 
 tear you in shreds." 
 
 And in a paroxysm of fury, he seized the knife that hung 
 at his belt, held it convulsively in his grasp for a moment, and 
 it was already flashing before Zagloba's eyes, when the chief- 
 tain grew calm again; put the dagger back in its sheath and 
 cried: 
 
 "Cossacks!" 
 
 Six Zaporojians sprang into the room. 
 
 "Take this carcass, throw it into the pig-sty and guard it 
 as the eye in your head?" 
 
 The Cossacks carried Pan Zagloba, two at his head and two 
 at his feet and c ne by the back hair of his head and carried 
 him out of the room across the yard and threw him upon a 
 dung heap in a pig-sty that stood at a distance. Then they 
 shut fihe door and the prisoner was left in the midst of total 
 darkness, except for the cracks between the beams and the 
 holes in the thatched roof a feeble light penetrated here and 
 there. Zagloba's eyes soon became accustomed to the twi- 
 light. He looked about him, and noticed that in the pig-sty 
 their were neither pigs nor Cossacks. But he heard distinctly 
 the talking of the latter through all the four walls, evidently 
 the whole building was surrounded closely. In spite of 
 these guards, Zagloba breatihed freely. 
 
484 WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 In the first place, he was alive. When Bohun flourished 
 the knife over him, he was sure that his last hour had come. 
 He had commended his ghost to God, for he was really in 
 the greatest terror. 
 
 But Bohun had the intention of reserving him for a death 
 of unheard of harbarity. He did not only wish to avenge 
 himself, but wished to gloat over the tortures of the men who 
 had snatched the beautiful girl from him, who had diminished 
 his renown as a soldier, and had covered him with ridicule by 
 tying him, as if he were a child. A sad outlook was before 
 Zagloba but, for the moment, he was comforted in the 
 thought that he still lived; that he would be led to Kshvonos 
 for examination, so that he woiild have a few, or perhaps 
 several days, before him; and, meantime he lay lonely here 
 in the pig-sty, and had plenty of time in the stillness of the 
 night to think about devices. That was the one and only 
 redeeming point in the case. But when he thought of the 
 other side, the creeping sensation came over him like a 
 thousand ants creeping over his body. 
 
 "Devices . . . . ! If a hog or a sow lay in this pen, it 
 ^^x)uld have better prospects than I have," murmured Pan 
 Zagloba, "for it would not be tied, would not be fastened with 
 its own sword. If Solomon had only been tied like this, he 
 would not have been any wiser than his trousers -or stockings. 
 Oh God, Oh God, why dost thou pimish me! Of all men in 
 the world, this thief was the sole one I wished most to avoid; 
 and now, it is my fate to nm right into his hands. My 
 skin will be combed like Svieboda cloth. If anyone else had 
 caught me, I should declare that I had joined the rebellion, 
 and then run away. Possibly, another might not believe me 
 and, how much less this man? The devil led him here — Oh 
 God! Oh God! I can move neither hand nor foot. God! 
 God!" 
 
 Presently, however, Zagloba reflected that if his hands and 
 feet were free, he might more easily find a way of escape 
 Suppose he should try to free himself. If he only could suc- 
 ceed in getting his sword away from under his knees, he could 
 manage the rest; but how could he draw it out. He turned on 
 one side, — no use. He reflected again. 
 
 Then he began to roll about on his back, faster and faster, 
 and, each movement brought him half an inch forward. He 
 became very warm and his brow perspired more than at the 
 dance. Occasionally, he interrupted his labor; because it 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. .35 
 
 seemed to him that one of the soldiers was approaching the 
 door; hut, on being reassured he began with new zest until he 
 had rolled himself over to the wall. 
 
 Now he began to wriggle in a different manner. Not from 
 his head to feet, but from side to side; so that, at each turn, 
 the end of the sword gently struck ■the wall. It glided each 
 time a little more from beneath his knees and the handle 
 came a little more to one side. 
 
 His heart beat like a hammer for he saw that his efforts 
 would be rewarded. He kept on wriggling, endeavoring to 
 strike the wall as gently as possible; and, only when the Cos- 
 sacks were making such a noise outside that they would not 
 hear him. At length, came the moment when the point of 
 the sword was on a line with one knee and elbow so that he 
 could not push it against the wall any longer. 
 
 At the opposite end it extended considerably and this was 
 the heaviest portion taking the handle into consideration. 
 
 On the hilt of the sword was a cross as is usual in these 
 weapons and Zagloba counted on this cross. 
 
 For the third time he began to squirm but the object of 
 his endeavors, now, was to turn his feet towards the wall. 
 When he had succeeded in doing this, he began to push him- 
 self lengthwise. His sword was still between his kneecaps 
 and hands but the hilt at each jerk caught against the uneven 
 ground. The hilt had now stuck fast and Zagloba twisted 
 more violently again, for the last time; and, for a moment, 
 he was unable to move for joy. 
 
 He had disengaged the sword completely. 
 
 Now the nobleman drew his hands from his knees and 
 although they were still tied together he was able to seize the 
 sword. He held the sheath fast between his feet and drew 
 the sword. It was the work of an instant to cut the thongs 
 that held his feet. 
 
 It was difficult to free his hands. He was obliged to put 
 the sword on the dung heap, lying with its edge upturned, 
 and to work away at his bonds until he cut them through. 
 
 When he finished that, he was not only unbound but also 
 armed. He took a deep breath and, crossing himself, thanked 
 God. 
 
 But, from curf;ting his fetters to escaping from Bohun's 
 hands, was a long stretch. 
 
 "What's to' be done next," said Zagloba to himself. 
 
 But he found no answer. The pig-sty was surrounded with 
 
■ 85 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Cossacks— there must have been at least a hundred men — and 
 a mouse could not have crept by them unpereeived, much lese 
 a big man like Zagloba. 
 
 "I see that I must take to my heels. My wit is worth as 
 much as shoeblacking, although one can get very good black- 
 ing at the market in Hungary. If God does not give me any 
 good ideas, I shall be a roast for the crows; but, if an idea 
 comes to me, I will make a vow to observe chastity, like Pan 
 Longin." The loud conversation of the soldiers interrupted 
 his thoughts. He jumped up and put his ear to a crack be- 
 tween the beams. The dried, pine boards gave back the 
 sound as the sounding board does the tones of a lute. He 
 heard quite clearly. 
 
 "And whither are we going from here?" asked a voice. 
 
 "I do not now, probably to Kamenets," answered another. 
 
 "Bah, the horses cannot do it." They can hardly drag one 
 foot after 'the other." 
 
 "That is why we are. waiting here. They can rest till to- 
 morrow." 
 
 A pause followed, then the first voice said more quietly. 
 
 "And it seems to me, father, that the ataman will go to 
 Yampol from Kamenets." 
 
 Zagloba held his breath. 
 
 "Silence! if it suits your young head," was the answer. 
 
 Another fsilenee followed but, from the opposite wall, came 
 whispering tones. 
 
 "They are everywhere; they are watching everywhere," 
 grunted Zagloba. 
 
 And he went to the opposite wall. Now, he heard the 
 horses crunching their oats and snorting, as they stood out- 
 side the wall. He judged that the soldiers were lying down 
 and conversing, for the second seemed to come from beneath 
 him. 
 
 "Hey," said one, "we have ridden here without sleeping, 
 without eating, without giving the horses a rest, and all, only 
 that we may be impaled in Yeremy's camp." 
 
 "Is it certain that he is here?" 
 
 "The people who fled from Yarmolints saw him just as 
 plainly as I see you. What they relate is dreadful. He is as 
 tall as a fir-tree, has two torches in his head, and his horse is 
 a dragon." 
 
 "Oh Lord, have mercy on us!" 
 
 "We ought to take this Pole and his soldiers and make our 
 escape." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 487 
 
 "How would you fly. The horses are dying already?" 
 
 "It looks bad, brother. If I were the ataman I would stick 
 this Pole through the throat and would go, even if it were on 
 foot, to Kamenets." 
 
 "We are going 'to take him with us to Kamenets. The ata- 
 man wants to have some fun with him." 
 
 "The devil vvill have some fun with you, first," growled 
 Zagloba. 
 
 It is strange! In spite of his great dread of Bohun and, 
 perhaps, for that very reason, he swore that he would not give 
 himself up alive. He was now free from his bonds and, with 
 his sword in his hand, he would defend himself. If they 
 killed him, well, that could not be helped; but, aliTe, they 
 should never cajtoh him. The snorting and groaning of the 
 horses, who were more than ordinarily exhausted, drovmed 
 the rest of the conversation but brought a better idea to 
 Zagloba. 
 
 "If I could only get through this wall, and unexpectedly 
 jump on a horses' back," he said. "It is night and, before 
 they knew what had happened, I should he out of sight. It 
 is hard to carry on a pursuit in these hollows and valleys by 
 daylight, how much more in the darkness of night! Grod 
 help me to do it!" 
 
 But the means were not easy. He would be obliged to 
 break througih the wall and to do that one would need be a 
 Podbipyenta; or to burrow like a fox, and even then he would 
 be seen and heard; and, before his foot was in the stirrup, he 
 would be caught. 
 
 A thousand such thoughts passed through his mind; but, 
 just because there were so many, no single one gave him any 
 clear solution of the difficulty. 
 
 "There is nothing for it, but to lose my head," he thought 
 and went to the third wall. 
 
 Suddenly, his head struck something hard. He felt it and 
 found it was a ladder. This was not a pig's sty, then, but an 
 ox-stable, and half of it was a space which served to store hay 
 and straw. Without reflecting Zagloba climbed the ladder. 
 Arrived at the top he puffed for breath a while and then 
 slowly drew the ladder up after him. 
 
 "Now I am in a fortress!" he grunted. "If they cannot find 
 a second ladder, they will not get up here so easily. If I do 
 not cleave the first head in two that shows itself, I will let 
 myself be made into smoked meat. "Oh, the devil," he said 
 
488 WITH FIRE AJS'D tiWORl). 
 
 suddenly, "that is a fact, they might not only smoke me but 
 roast me, and melt me into tallow, but let be, let be! If they 
 wish to bum the pig sty — it is well. They will then not be 
 able to catch me aMve: and it is all the same, whether the 
 ravens eat me raw or cooked. If I can only escape from the 
 hands of these assassins, the rest does not trouble me, and I 
 hope that something may yet occur." 
 
 As we see, Zagloba turned easily from despair to hope. Un- 
 expectedly, he had become filled with as much confidence as 
 though he were already in Prince Yeremjrs camp, and yet, 
 his position had changed very slightly. He was sitting in the 
 loft with his sword in his hands, and could in fact defend him- 
 self for a long time; but that was all. From the loft to free- 
 dom, the road was still worse now, for below him the swords 
 and pikes of the Cossacks who were guarding him, awaited 
 him outside. 
 
 '"How will it end?"" miimbled Zagloba and, as he neared the 
 roof, he began to tear away the thatch carefully, in order to 
 open for himself an outlook upon the world. 
 
 This was easy for him, as the soldiers, to lighten the 
 tediousness of their watch, were carrying on a lively conver- 
 sation. Besides this, a strong wind had risen and, the noise of 
 the leaves in the neighboring trees drowned the rustle made 
 by the removal of the thatch. 
 
 Before long, he had made a hole in the thatch. He stuck 
 his head through and looked round him. 
 
 It was near dawn and, in the East, could already be seen 
 the first gleams of morning light. Zagloba saw, by the pale 
 light, that the courtyard before the house was completely 
 filled with horses. Immediately before the house, lay long 
 rows of sleeping Cossacks. Beyond was the crane of the well, 
 and the trough, in which the water gleamed, and close by 
 another row of sleeping men and several soldiers with un- 
 sheathed swords in their hands, keeping guard over them. 
 
 "Those are my men whom they have tied,"" said Zagloba. 
 'T3ah," he added, in a moment, "if they only were mine, but 
 they are the prince's. I was a good leader, truly. I led them 
 into the jaws of the dog. If God gives me my freedom, I shall 
 be ashamed to show my eyes. And what was the cause of all 
 this! Love and drink. What did the marriage of that mob 
 matter to me? I had as much business with that wedding as 
 with a dog's wedding. I renounce that traitor, mead, which 
 paralyzes my feet, instead of mounting to my head. All the 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 489 
 
 evil in the world comes from drink; for, if they had attacked 
 us when we were sober, as true as I live, I should have con- 
 quered them and shoved Bohun in the pig-sty." Here, Zag- 
 loba's eyes fell upon the cabin in which the chieftain was 
 sleeping, and remained fixed on the door. 
 
 "Sleep, rascal," he growled, "sleep! May you dream that 
 the devil is flaying you, for you will not escape him in the 
 end. You wanted to make a sieve of my skin, but we will 
 see if I cannot prepare your skin in such a manner that it 
 will not be even good for dog's boots. Only just dare to come 
 up here to me. If 1 could only get away from here, if I only 
 could! But how?" Indeed, this wish seemed incapable of ful- 
 fillment. The whole courtyard was so paciced with men and 
 horses that3 even if Zagloba had succeeded in getting out of 
 the stables, if he really could have slid down from the roof 
 and sprung on the back of one of the horses that were stand- 
 ing before the stable, he could not, in any ease, have forced 
 his way through, to the gate, and how could he get beyond 
 the gate? 
 
 And yet it seemed to him as though he already completed 
 half of the task. He was free, armed, and sat in the loft as 
 in a fortress. 
 
 "What the devil," he thought, "is getting out of the snare 
 if you are to be hung afterwards." 
 
 And again plans began to rush through his head, but they 
 were so many that he was unable to choose one of them. 
 
 Meanwhile day was dawning, the surrounding of the cabins 
 stood out from the darkness and the roof seemed to be over- 
 laid with silver. Zagloba could already distinguish the dif- 
 ferent groups in the yard; could recognize the red color of the 
 uniform of his men, who were lying near the well, and the 
 sheep skins of the Cossack who were lying beside the cabin. 
 
 Suddenly a form arose from the ranks of the sleepers and 
 walked slowly across the yard, pausing a moment beside the 
 men and horses and speaking for a while with the Cossacks 
 who were watching the prisoners; then he approached the 
 stable. In the first moment, Zagloba thought it was Bohun; 
 for he had noticed that the sentries had spoken to him as 
 subordinates. 
 
 "Ah," he grunted, "if I only had a gun in my hand, I would 
 show you how to cover yourself with your feet." 
 
 At this moment, the figure raised its head and the gray 
 light of dawn fell upon its face. 
 
490 WITH FIRE AXD ^WORD. 
 
 It was not Bohuu; it was the sotuik Holody, whom Zagloba 
 recognized at once, for he remembered him very well from 
 that time when he and Bohun were companions in Chigrin. 
 
 "Boys," said Holody, "have you nat slept yet?" 
 
 "Xo, little father, if we had been sleeping it would be 
 time to change (guards)." 
 
 "I will change soon. And the rascal has not escaped?" 
 
 "ISTo, little father! Only his soul could have escaped, for 
 he has not budged." 
 
 "He's a regular fox. Just see what he is doing, for he is 
 quite equal to sinking through the earth." 
 
 "Immediately," answered some of the Cossacks, and ap- 
 proached the door of the stable. 
 
 "Throw down some hay from the loft, rub down the horses. 
 We shall set out at sunrise." 
 
 "Eight, little father." 
 
 Pan Zagloba hastily left his position near the hole in the 
 roof, and crept to the entrance to the loft. Presently he 
 heard the grating of the door hinges and the rustling of straw 
 beneath the step of the Cossacks. His heart was beating like 
 with a hammer. His hand grasped more firmly the hilt of 
 his sword, while he renewed his vow in his mind, that he 
 would rather be burned alive with the pigsty or allow himself 
 to be chopped like straw for fodder, than give himself up 
 alive. He expected also, at any moment, that the soldiers 
 would raise a terrible alarm; but he was mistaken. He only 
 heard them running about more quickly in the stable and 
 finally, one said: 
 
 "What a devil is there! I cannot feel him. We certainly 
 threw him down here." 
 
 "Is he not a magician or what? Strike a light. It is as 
 dark as in the forest." 
 
 There was silence for a moment. Vasil was probably look- 
 ing for flint and tinder. The others began to call him softly. 
 
 "Answer, Pan Xobleman." 
 
 "Kiss the dog's ear," murmured Zagloba. 
 
 Then he heard them strike the flint and a shower of sparks 
 lighted up the dark interior of the stable and the heads of 
 the soldiers that were covered with caps. And, then it be- 
 came darker than ever. 
 
 "He is not here, he is not here," cried several voices. 
 
 Then one of them sprang to the door. "Father Holody! 
 Father Holody!" 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. .g^ 
 
 "What's the matter?" cried the sotnik stepping into the 
 door. 
 
 "The Pole has gone." 
 
 "How! is he gone?" 
 
 "He must have sunk into the ground. He is nowhere to be 
 seen. Oh, God pity on us! We struck fire. He is gone." 
 
 "That is impossible! Oh, the ataman will pay you oflE for 
 that. Has he escaped, or what? Did you go to sleep?" 
 
 "No, little father, we did not sleep. He did not come out 
 of the pig-sty on our side." 
 
 "Quiet, do not wake the ataman. If he did not get out, he 
 must be somewhere about. Did you look everywhere?" 
 
 "Everywhere." 
 
 "Also in the loft?" 
 
 "How could he get into the hayloft, if he was tied." 
 
 "Fool! If he had not untied his fastenings he would be 
 here. Look in the hay loft! Strike fire!" 
 
 Once more the sparks flew. The news was quickly spread 
 among all the sentries. They all hastened, with the speed that 
 is usual in sudden emergencies, and went into flie stable. 
 Quick steps were heard; hasty questions and still more hasty 
 ansB^ers crossed each other like swords in battle. 
 
 "To the loft! To the loft!" 
 
 "And keep watch outside!" 
 
 "Do not wake the ataman or it will be the worse for you!" 
 
 "There is no ladder here!" 
 
 "Bring another!" 
 
 "There is none anywhere." 
 
 "Eush into the cabin and see if there is not one there!" 
 
 "Oh, the cursed Pole!" 
 
 "Climb up on the roof, and come through the roof into 
 the loft." 
 
 "We cannot do that, for it is overhanging and has boards 
 nailed across the underside." 
 
 "Bring pikes, we will climb up on those. This dog has 
 taken the ladder up with him." 
 
 "Bring pikes," commanded Holody. 
 
 The Cossacks hurried away for pikes. Others looked up 
 towards the loft. The morning light poured through the 
 open door into the stable and, by its gray gleam, one saw the 
 black square opening that led to the hayloft. From below, 
 cried some voices: 
 
 "Come, Pan Nobleman, let the ladder down, and come 
 
4f,2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 down yourself. You will not get away like this, so why do 
 3'ou give people trouble. C'ome down! Come down!" 
 
 There was a silence. 
 
 "You are a wise man! If that could help you stay there; 
 but this will not help you, so better come down willingly, 
 good man." 
 
 Silence. 
 
 "Come down. If not, we will scalp you, and throw you 
 down on the dung heap." 
 
 Pan Zagloba remained quiet, deaf to the threats as to the 
 flatteries. He sat in the dark, like a badger in its hole, pre- 
 pared for the most obstinate resistance. He only grasped his 
 sword more tightly, panted a little and prayed in silence. 
 
 Meanwhile, they brought pikes. Three of these were tied 
 together and placed with their points upwards beneath the 
 opening to the loft. Zagloba was thinking whether he could 
 not snatch them away and pull them up, but he' reflected that 
 they were too far beneath him, and he might not be able to 
 pull thepi up entirely. Besides, they would haye brought 
 others immediately. 
 
 The whole stable was now full of Cossacks. Some Ughted 
 pieces of pitch pine; other's dragged various poles and racks 
 with them, which of course proved too short, so they tied them 
 together with straps; for it was really very hard to climb up 
 on the pikes, but there were some who wanted to climb. 
 
 "I will go," cried several voices. 
 
 ""U'ait for the ladder," said Holody. 
 
 "What harm would it do to try climbing the pikes?" 
 
 "YasU can get up. He climbs like a cat." 
 
 "Well try it." 
 
 Others began to joke. 
 
 "Carefully there; he has a sword and will cut off your head. 
 You will see." 
 
 "He will seize you by the head and drag you up and then 
 he will finish you as if you were a bear." 
 
 Yasil could not be frightened. 
 
 "He knows," said he, "that if he were to touch me only 
 with his finger, the ataman would give him to the devil to 
 swallow, and you, too, brothers." 
 
 That was meant for a warning for Zagloba, who sat still 
 and did not budge. 
 
 But the Cossacks were soon in a good humor, as is the east 
 among soldiers; for the whole proceeding appeared to then 
 as good humor, so they continued joking. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^g^ 
 
 "There will be one fool the less in this white world,' they 
 said. "He will not care if we pay him for your neck. He is 
 a bold fellow." 
 
 "Aha! He's a magician. The devil knows what he has 
 changed himself into, the wizard. You, Vasil, you do not 
 know what you may find under the roof." 
 
 Vasil, who had just spat on his hands and was about to 
 climb the pikes, suddenly took his hands off them. 
 
 "I will look for the Pole," he said, "but not for the devil." 
 
 Meanwhile, they had fastened the racks together, and stood 
 them up. 
 
 It was difficult, however, to mount them, for they gave 
 where they were tied together, and the thin steps cracked be- 
 neath their feet when they attempted to step on them. Holody 
 himself stepped on them and said, as he climbed: 
 
 "You see. Pan Nobleman, we are not joking. You have 
 taken it into your head to sit in the loft and you may sit 
 there; but do not defend yourself. We will take you any- 
 way, if the whole stable has to be torn down. Listen to 
 reason." 
 
 Presently his head reached the opening and disappeared 
 slowly. Then, one heard a swish and a terrible scream and 
 the Cossack staggered and fell among the crowd, with his 
 head cloven in two. 
 
 "Cut! Cut!" screamed the Cossacks. 
 
 A frightful confusion ensued. Screams and cries were 
 raised, which were drowned by Zagloba's voice of thunder. 
 
 "Ha! You thieves, you cannibles, you vipers! I will kill 
 every last one of you, you mangy rascals. You shall feel a 
 knight's hand. To think of attacking honorable men by 
 night! To fasten a nobleman in a pig's sty — ha, you mob! 
 Come and fight with me, single handed, or two at a time, for 
 all I care! But come on! You will leave your heads behind 
 in the dung heap, for I will cut them off, as sure as I live!" 
 
 "Cut! Cut!" screamed a soldier. 
 
 "We will burn down the stable." 
 
 "I will burn it down myself, vou fools. . . . But, with you 
 in it." 
 
 "Several go up at once," cried an old Cossack. "Hold the 
 steps. Support them with pikes. Put bundles of straw round 
 your heads, and go ahead. We must have him." As he said 
 this, he mounted the steps and, with him, two companions. 
 The steps began to break; the ladder was more and more 
 
494 
 
 WITH FIRE AyD SWORD. 
 
 shaky; but more than twenty strong arms grasped them be- 
 low, and, higher up, they were supported by pikes. Others 
 poked their pikes through the hole in the loft, in order to 
 keep off the sword thrusts. 
 
 A few minutes later, three fresh heads fell down on the 
 heads of those standing below. Zagloba excited by his suc- 
 cess was'bellowing like a buffalo, and such frightful oaths 
 came from his mouth that the world never heard before; and 
 they would have terrified the hearts of the Cossacks, if these 
 had not been filled with wild madness and rage. Several stuck 
 their pikes at hazard through the opening to the loft; others 
 forced their way up the steps, although certain death awaited 
 them. Suddenly, a cry was heard at the door, and Bohim 
 himself sprang into the stable. He was bareheaded, in his 
 stockings and shirtsleeves. He held his drawn sword in his 
 hand, and his eyes darted flames of fire. 
 
 "Through the roof, dogs!" he cried. "Tear away the thatch 
 and take him alive!'" When Zagloba saw him, he bellowed: 
 
 "You peasant, only come here! I will cut off your nose and 
 your ears, but not your neck, for that is the hangman's prop- 
 erty. What? Are you afraid? Coward! Are yon terrified, 
 you mean servant? Bind this rascal and I will have mercy 
 on the rest of you. Come here, you gallows bird, come here, 
 you Jew-pudding. Stick your head through, come, come, I 
 shall be glad. I will receive you in such a manner that your 
 father, the devil, and your mother, the wench . will stand be- 
 fore your eyes." 
 
 During this time, the beams of the roof were beginning to 
 crack. The Cossacks were probably above there, and begin- 
 ning to take off the thatch. Zagloba heard it, but fear no lon- 
 ger robbed him of his strength. He was as if drunk from 
 fighting and blood. 
 
 "I will jump into a comer and end my life there," he 
 thought. 
 
 But at this moment, firing was heard outside, all over the 
 courtyard and, at the same time, several Cossacks broke into 
 the stable. 
 
 'TLittle father, little father!" they cried, "come quickly." 
 
 Zagloba could not understand at first what had happened 
 and stood bewildered. He looked down through the open- 
 ing, but no one was there. The rafters had ceased to creak. 
 
 "What does it mean? What has happened?" he cried aloud. 
 "Ah, I know, they want to set the stable on fire and are firing 
 their pistols at the thatch." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^g^ 
 
 The noise outside grew louder and was increased by tramp- 
 ing of horses, shouts, firing, mingled with yells and clashing 
 of iron. 
 
 "God, that sounds like a fight," thought Zagloba. He ran 
 to his peep-hole in the roof. He looked out — and his legs 
 bent under him for joy. 
 
 A fight was raging in the courtyard, and Zagloba could see 
 that Bohun's men had been frightfully routed. Suddenly 
 attacked, and frightened by pistols that had been placed at 
 their heads and breasts, they, crowded against the fences, in 
 the cabin and in the sheds, hewn down with swords, crushed 
 and trampled by those who had come swarming in on horse- 
 back and had overcome them, almost without resistance. The 
 ranks of soldiers in red uniforms crowded and fired on the 
 fugitives, so that it was impossible for them to form in any 
 order, to draw their swords, or to mount their horses and 
 ride away. Only a few groups defended themselves. Others 
 who tried, amid the noise and confusion, to saddle their 
 horses, were cut down before their feet reached the stirrup. 
 Others, again, threw away their pikes and swords and fled 
 behind the fence; some got caught between the posts; others 
 ran away uttering unearthly cries and howls. The unfortu- 
 nates believed that Prince Yeremy himself had attacked them, 
 unexpectedly, like an eagle, and was destroying them with 
 his whole army. They had no time to come to their senses 
 or to look round them. The war-cry of the assailants, the 
 swishing of the swords and the reports of the shots drove them 
 along like a wind-storm. The hot breath of the horses fell 
 on their necks. "Men, fly," was heard on all sides. "Fight, 
 kill!" answered the attackers. 
 
 And, finally, from his hiding-place, Zagloba saw little Pan 
 Volodiyovski, who was standing near the gate, at the head 
 of several soldiers, giving verbal instructions and with his 
 baton and, occasionally dashing with his bay horse into the 
 crowd. And every time he turned, a man fell, without a 
 sound coming from his lips. Oh, little Pan Volodiyovski was 
 a master of masters and a soldier, blood and bone. He never 
 lost sight of the battle, advised here and there, then turned 
 again and looked round him, then again took part himself; 
 just like a leader of a orchestra who, in the midst of direct- 
 ing, sometimes himself joins in; sometimes stops and listens 
 attentively to see that each one is playing his part. 
 
 Wben Zagloba saw that, he stamped his feet on the floor 
 
496 Wil'H PlltE ^ND tiWORD. 
 
 oJ: the loft so that clouds of dust arose, and clapped his hands 
 and bellowed: 
 
 "Kill the dogs! Strike! Slay! Flay them! Hew them! 
 Slash! Cut! Stab! Thrust!" 
 
 He cried thus, running hither and thither, his eyes blood- 
 shot with straining them, so that for a moment he could see 
 nothing. But, when his sight returned, there was a more 
 beautiful spectacle, for behold — ^surrounded by several dozen 
 of his soldiers, was Bohun, flying without his cap on, just as 
 Zagloba saw him last, in his shirt; and, behind him, at the 
 head of his soldiers, little Pan Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Kill!" cried Zagloba. "That is Bohun!" 
 
 But his voice did not reach the soldiers. Meanwhile Bohun 
 had crossed the fence with Pan Volodiyovski after him. Some 
 of them remained; the horses of others fell while jumping. 
 Zagloba saw Bohun on the plain as well as Volodiyovski. 
 Presently, they were all running; some to escape, others pur- 
 suing; each one after his man. Zagloba held his breath. His 
 eyes almost started from their sockets — ^for what did he see? 
 Volodiyovski overtakes Bohun; he springs towards him, like 
 a boarhound on the boar. The chieftain turns his head, raises 
 his sword. 
 
 "They are fighting!" cries Zagloba. 
 
 In another moment, Bohun's horse falls with him and Pan 
 Volodiyovski tramples him down and pursues the others. 
 
 But Bohun lives. He rises from the ground and runs over 
 to the rocks that are overgrown with bushes. 
 
 "Stop him! Stop him!" cries Zagloba. "That is Bohun!" 
 
 Now, a fresh band of Cossacks comes on the scene who 
 had formerly been creeping round the other side of the rocks, 
 but, being discovered, are seeking a new outlet of escape. 
 
 In the background, at a distance of a few rods, soldiers are 
 approaching. They overtake Bohun, surround him and lead 
 him away with them. Finally they disappear behind the bend 
 of the narrow path, the other soldiers following them. 
 
 In the farmyard all was still and deserted, for Zagloba's 
 soldiers, who had been freed by Volodiyovski, had mounted 
 their horses and joined the other soldiers in pursuit of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Zagloba now let down the ladder, climbed down from the 
 loft and said, as he stepped from the sty into the yard: 
 
 "I am free." 
 
 He looked about him; the farmyard was covered with the 
 
"I WILL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU." 
 
 IVi'th Fire and Sword. 
 
WITH FIRE ANV iSWORU. ^gy 
 
 dead bodies of the Zaporojians and a few other soldiers. The 
 nobleman walked slowly among them, observed each one care- 
 fully and, finally, knelt down beside one of them. Presently 
 he rose again with a tin flask in his hand. 
 
 "It is full," he murmured. 
 
 And, placing it to his lips, he bent his head back. 
 
 "Not bad!" 
 
 Again, he looked round him and repeated, but in a much 
 louder voice: 
 
 "I am free!" 
 
 Then he went into the cabin and, on the threshold, 
 stumbled against the body of the old cooper whom Bohun's 
 men had killed, and disappeared inside. When he came out 
 again, he wore over his dirty coat, that was all covered with 
 manure, Bohun's gorgeous, gold-embroidered girdle, in which 
 was a dagger with a large ruby in its hilt. 
 
 "God has rewarded bravery," he murmured, "for the 
 pocket of the belt is full also. Ha! this horrid murderer. 
 I hope he will not escape. But this little pigmy. I will put 
 a bullet in him. He is a spiteful little fellow, just J.ike a 
 wasp. I knew that he was a brave soldier but I did not ex- 
 pect him to ride upon Bohun like a grey mare. It is strange 
 that such a soul and so much couraage should hide in such 
 a litle body. Bohun could easily carry him on a string at 
 his belt, as if he were a little kid. May the bullets strike him 
 or, better still, God give him luck. He certainly could not 
 have known Bohun or else he would have killed him. Ugh! 
 Ugh! how it smells of powder here! It fairly chokes one! 
 "Well, I have managed to wriggle out of such dangers as I 
 never before experienced. God be' praised! Well, well, but 
 to think they have not killed Bohun! I must look closer 
 at this Volodiyovski, for the devil must be in him." 
 
 Thus talking to himslef, Zagloba sat in the threshold of 
 the stable and waited. 
 
 Presently, in the distance, appeared the soldiers returning 
 from the pursuit, with Volodiyovsld at their head. When 
 he saw Zagloba, he quickened his horse's pace and, dismoun- 
 ing, came to meet him. 
 
 "What, I see you still alive!" he asked, from a distance. 
 
 "Myself, and no one else," said Zagloba. "God reward 
 you for coming to help me." 
 
 "Let us praise God that it happened at the right time," 
 answered the little knight, shaJiing Zagloba's hand heartily. 
 
 33 
 
498 WITH FIRE AJfD SWORD. 
 
 "But how did you knew of the danger in which I was 
 placed?" 
 
 "The peasants from the farm sent me word." 
 
 "Oh, and I thought they had betrayed me!"" 
 
 "What made you think that ? They are good people. The 
 boy and his wife hardly escaped with their lives; as for the 
 rest of the wedding-party. I do not know what became of 
 them." 
 
 "If they were not traitors they have been killed by the 
 Cossacks. The proprietor of the farm is lying over there 
 beside the cabin. But never mind that, tell me. Pan, is 
 Bohun alive? Did he escape?"" 
 
 "Was that Bohun?"" 
 
 "The one without a cap, in his shirt; whom you knocked 
 over, together with his horse." 
 
 "I cut his hand through. It is too bad I did not recognize 
 him. But you, but you. Pan Zagloba, what have you done?"" 
 
 "^^^lat have I done," repeated Zagloba, "Come, Pan 
 Michael and see!" 
 
 Then Zagloba took Tolodiyovski by the hand and led him 
 into "the stable. 
 
 '"Look," he repeated. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski, at first, saw nothing, for he came from 
 outside into the darkness; but, as his eyes became accustomed 
 to it, he noticed the dead bodies lying on the dung-heap. 
 
 "Who killed these men?"" he asked in astonishment. 
 
 "I."' said Zagloba, "you asked what I did, look there." 
 
 '"Hm,"' said the young ofiBcer, shaking his head. "And 
 how did you do it?"" 
 
 "ITp there," Zagloba said, pointing to the loft, "I defended 
 myself while they attacked me from below and through the 
 roof. I do not know how long it lasted, for in the heat of 
 battle, one does not reckon time. It was Bohun, Bohun with 
 his cruel strength and his picked men. He will remember 
 you, but he will also remember me. Another time, I will tell 
 you how I happened to become a prisoner, all that I suffered, 
 and how I settled Bohun, for I had a war of words with him. 
 To-day, I am so exhausted that I can hardly stand, on my 
 feet."" 
 
 "Well!" repeated Pan Volodiyovski, "I cannot deny that 
 you defended yourself bravely, but one thing I must tell you. 
 That you are better as a fighter than as a leader." 
 
 'Tan Michael," said the nobleman, "now is not the time 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^gg 
 
 to argue. Let us, rather, thank God that he has given us 
 both such a great victory, the remembrance of which will 
 long remain in the memory of men." 
 
 Voldiyovski continued to observe Zagloba. Until this mo- 
 ment, he had imagined that he had gained the victory that 
 Zagloba now sought to share with him. 
 
 But he merely made his own mental comment and, shaking 
 his head, said: 
 
 "Well, so let it be." 
 
 An hour later, the two friends, at the head of their united 
 divisions were marching to Yarmolints. 
 
 Hardly one of Zagloba's soldiers was missing, for they had 
 been sound asleep and offered no resistance; and Bohun, who 
 was commissioned principally to look for people who would 
 give him information, had them all taken prinsoners, instead 
 of killing them. 
 
CHAPTEK Vin. 
 
 Boliim, although a valiant and careful leader, had no luck 
 with this expedition that he had undertaken against Prince 
 Yeremys diiasions. He was firmly convinced that the prince 
 was marching with his whole arm}' against Kshyvonos, for the 
 prisoners he had taken from Zagloba told him that the prince 
 was following them, and they believed it themselves; so there 
 remained nothing for the unfortunate ataman to do but to 
 retreat as quickly as he could to Kshyvonos and the under- 
 taking was not easy. Scarcely did he succeed in three days 
 in collecting a troop of a Uttle over two hundred men. The 
 rest had either fallen in fight, or remained upon the field 
 of battle, or were wandering among the ravines or in the 
 rushes: not knowing what to do, or whither they should 
 turn their steps. And this troop was not of much use to 
 Bohun for, beaten, terrified, and demoralized, they were ready 
 to fly at the least alarm, and, yet, they were the best picked 
 soldiers: it would be difficult to find better ones in the whole 
 of Sich. But the Cossacks did not know how small the 
 force was which Volodiyovski had against them, or, that 
 thanks to his agility and his surprising them, that he was 
 able to attack and defeat the sleeping and unprepared men. 
 
 They thought that they were dealing, if not with the 
 prince himself, yet with a strong and considerable division 
 of the army. Bohun was burning like fire; his hand was 
 cut; he had been trampled by his horse, HI and beaten. His 
 accursed enemy had slipped out of his 'hands; his glory was 
 tarnished. And the very warriors, who on the eve of the 
 defeat, would have blindly followed him not only to the 
 Crimea but even to hell against the very dreaded Yeremy. 
 They had lost faith; they had lost spirit; and were only think- 
 ing how they coidd save their throats and escape total de- 
 feat. And, yet Bohun had done all that a leader could do. 
 He had omitted, nothing, had stationed sentries around the 
 farmyard, and was only taking a rest because the horse, that 
 had traveled hither from Kamenets, had hardly stopped for 
 500 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. cqi 
 
 breath and were utterably incapable of traveling any farther. 
 
 But Volodiyovski, who during his young life, had exper- 
 ience in sorties and hunts upon the Tartars went, like a 
 wolf in the night, oa the watch; taken them prisoners before 
 they could scream or even fire; and attacked the rest so 
 quickly that even he, Bohun was obHged to fly, just as he 
 was, in his trousers and his shirt sleeves. As the chieftain 
 thought of these things, a mist came before his eyes, his 
 head grew dizzy and despair gnawed at his heart, and he 
 was enraged like a mad dog. He, who had snatched the 
 ' Turkish galleys in the Black Sea; he, who had penetrated to 
 Perekop and role across the necks of the Tartars and had 
 held burning torches beneath the eyes of the Khan; he, who 
 had hewn down at the side of the prince a regiment in Vasi- 
 loots close to Lubni, had been obliged to fly in his shirt 
 sleeves without his cap or sword — for he had lost the latter 
 in his fight with the little knight. And, when they stopped 
 to feed the horses and no one saw him the chieftain seized 
 his head with both hands and cried: "Where is my Cossack 
 fame? Where my beloved sword?" and, as he thus cried, a 
 wild madness seemed to seize him, and he took to drinking 
 like an inhuman being. He wanted to march against the 
 prince, attack his whole army; die, and perish and be lost 
 forever. 
 
 He wished to do this — ^but the Cossacks did not. "If you 
 should kill us, little father, we would not go," they answered 
 gloomily, to his outbreak of fury — -and it was useless, in such 
 outbreaks of fury, to slash them with the sword or blacken 
 their faces with gunpowder from his pistol — they would not 
 go and they did not. 
 
 It seemed as if the ground were giving way beneath the 
 feet of the ataman, for his misfortunes were not yet at an 
 end.' Fearing that he would be pursued and believing that 
 Kshyvonos had already given up the siege, he did not go 
 immediately towards the south, but turned in the direction 
 of the east and met Longin's division. Watchful as a crane, 
 Longin did not let himself be surprised by stealth, but at- 
 tacked the ataman first and routed his forces; the more easily, 
 as the soldiers themselves were not anxious to fight, and drove 
 them towards Skshetuski; who defeated them so thoroughly 
 that Bohun, after wandering for some time in the steppeSj 
 finally arrived at Kshyvonos camp without glory, without 
 officers or soldiers, without prisoners and with only a few 
 
502 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 But the savage Kshyvonos, who was usually so cruel to 
 those under him whom fortune had not favored, was hot 
 angry this time. He knew, from his own experience, what 
 it meant to fight with Yeremy's army. He was Mnd to Bo- 
 hun, comforted him and calmed him and, when the Cossack 
 leader became a prey to a violent fever, he had him watched, 
 tended, healed and kept as the pupil in his eye. 
 
 Meanwhile, the four officers of the prince, after filling the 
 country with terror and horror, returned joyfuUy to Yarmo- 
 lints where they remained several days in order to rest the 
 men and horses. After they had taken up their quarters to- 
 gether houses, each of them gave an account of all that had 
 happened to Pan Skshetuski and all that he had endured; 
 and then they took to drinking wine, in order to ease their 
 hearts by cheerful conversation and to satisfy their common 
 curiosity. 
 
 But Zagloba would hardly give any of them a chance to 
 speak. He did not wish to listen but expected everyone to 
 listen to him, and it proved that he had the most to relate. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "I was taken prisoner, that is true, 
 but the wheel of fortune turned. Bohun has been fighting 
 all his life, and to-day we have conquered him. That is the 
 luck of war. To-day you tan them; to-morrow they tan you. 
 But God punished Bohun for having attacked us when we 
 were sleeping the sleep of the just, and waking us in such 
 a shameless manner. Ha, ha! he thought he would frighten 
 me with his dirty tongue; but I tell you, sirs, as soon as I 
 answered him back, he at once lost courage, became confused, 
 and blabbed out just what he did not intend. I could tell 
 you volumes! If I had not been taken prisoner. Pan Michael 
 and I would not have beaten him. I say. he and I, for on 
 this occasion — I have done most of it. I shall never cease to 
 affirm this till the day of my death. So may God grant me 
 health. Listen further to my story; that if Pan Michael and 
 I had not beaten him, neither Podbiyenta nor Skshetuski 
 would have overtaken him; and if we had not defeated him 
 he would have defeated us — and what would not have hap- 
 pened. Who prevented it?" 
 
 "Ah, you're like a little fox," said Longin, "here you wag 
 your tail, there you slip away, and, in every case, you manage 
 to get out of the trap." 
 
 "Only a foolish boarhound runs close behind the game, 
 for he catches nothing and does not get even good scent and 
 
WITH FIBH AND SWORD. ,q^ 
 
 finally loses the trail altogether. How many men have you 
 lost?" 
 
 "About twelve altogether, and a couple wounded. They 
 did not attack us fiercely." 
 
 "And you, Pan Michael?" 
 
 "About thirty, for I attacked them unexpectedly." 
 
 "And you, lieutenant?" 
 
 "As many as Pan Longin." 
 
 "And I lost two; now tell me who was the best leader? 
 Let's see how matters stand? With what object did we come 
 here? We were sent by the prince in order to collect news 
 about Kshyvonos. Well, I will tell you that I was the first 
 to get news about him, and that from the best source, from 
 Bohun himself. I knew that he is encamped at Kamenets 
 but that he is afraid and will raise the siege. I know that 
 from the people; but I know something else, that will make 
 you all very happy, gentlemen, and I did not mention it, as 
 yet, because I wished to consult you all about it. Besides I 
 did not feel well, because my labors were too much for me 
 and my stomach rebelled at those murderous thongs. I 
 thought my blood would have been poured out.' 
 
 "SpeaJs, for God's sake," cried Volodiyovski, "Did you 
 hear anything of our poor girl." 
 
 "You have guessed it, may God bless her!" said Zagloba. 
 
 Pan Skshetuski stood up, to his full height, but imme- 
 diately sat down again. There -was such a complete 
 silence, that one could hear the humming of the mosquitoes 
 at the little window. Then Zagloba continued: 
 
 "She lives, I know it for certain, and is in Bohun's hands. 
 Gentlemen, they are dreadful hands, but God has not allowed 
 any wrong or evil to come near her. Bohun, himself, con- 
 fessed that to me; that he might deal wrongly with anyone 
 else, but not with her." 
 
 "How can that be? How can that be?" asked Skshetuski 
 feverishly. 
 
 "If I lie, may I be struck by lightning," answered Zagloba 
 earnestly. "The matter is too sacred with me. Listen to 
 what Bohun told me when he was mocking me, before I 
 roused him fully. 'What did you imagine,' (he said) 'that 
 you were bringing her to Bar for a peasant? Am I a peasant 
 that I should wish to take advantage of her? I would rather 
 take her to Kiev and be married to her in the church and 
 have the people sing songs for us and let three hundred 
 
504 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 candles be lighted, to me, the ataman and hetman!" He 
 stamped his loot and threatened me with his knife for he 
 thought he would frighten me; but I said to him he could 
 not frighten a dog." 
 
 Skshetuski had recovered himself. His monk's face had 
 brightened and fear, hope, joy and uncertainty were once 
 more depicted in his countenance. 
 
 ■'Where is she then? Where?" he asked hastily. "If you 
 found out that, you are a messenger from heaven." 
 
 "He did not tell me that, but a wise man needs only a 
 couple of words. Consider, gentleman, that he was insult- 
 ing me without ceasing until I roused him to a pitch of fury; 
 but he said this: 'First I will lead you to Kshyvonos, and then 
 I would like to invite you to the wedding; but now we have 
 war and so it cannot take place so soon.' Consider that gentle- 
 men, not 'so soon' — so we still have time. Also mark his 
 words, 'I wiU lead you to Ksh^-vonos then I would like to 
 invite you to the wedding,' so, in any ease, she cannot be with 
 Kshyvonos but in some other place, where the war cannot 
 penetrate." 
 
 "You're a man as good as gold," cried Volodiyovski. 
 
 ''I at first thought," said Zagloba, delighted, "that he had 
 perhaps taken her to Kiev — hut, no, for he said that he would 
 take her to Kiev to get married so if he is going to take her 
 there, that proves that she is not yet there. He is too clever 
 to take her there, for if Bogdan KhmyelnitsM goes to Cher- 
 Vona Euss, (Eed Eussia), Kiev would easily fall into the 
 hands of the Lithuanian army" 
 
 "That is true; that is true;"' cried Longin, "that is true, as 
 God lives! Many would like to have your intelligence.'" 
 
 "But I would not like to exchange with theirs, for fear I 
 might get beet soup instead of understanding; which might 
 easily happen to jne, among the Lithuanians." 
 
 "He is- beginning to ridicule me again," said Longin. 
 
 "Allow me to finish. Well, she is not with Kshyvonos, not 
 in Kiev; where then can she be?" 
 
 "Here is the difficulty!" 
 
 "If you can guess, tell me quickly, for I am burning to 
 know." cried Skshetuski. 
 
 "Beyond Yampoll' said Zagloba, looking triumphantly 
 round with his sound eye. 
 
 "How do you know that?" said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "How do I know it? Look here! I was sitting in the pig- 
 
WITH FIRM AND SWORD. 505 
 
 sty, for that rascal had shut me up in the pigsty, — may a hog 
 eat him, and the Cossacks were conversing all around, out- 
 side, so I put my ear close to the wall, and what did 1 hear? 
 One said 'the ataman will now ride to Yampol,' the other 
 answered, 'Keep still, if you value your young head.' I would, 
 wager my neck that she is in Yampol." 
 
 "Oh, as true as God is in Heaven," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "He cannot have taken her into the Wild Lands, so he 
 must have taken and hidden her somewhere between Yampol 
 and Yahorlik. I was in that region once when the King's 
 judges met those of the Khan to settle questions, arisiag from 
 the seizure of cattle on the frontier. As you gentlemen, 
 know, it was in Yahorlik that the frequent border questions 
 about driven-ofE cattle were settled. There are enough ra- 
 vines and hiding-places there, all along the Dnieper, and a 
 number of woods, in which people have farms and live in a 
 state of lawlessness, dwell in deserted places; and do not even 
 see any neighbors. He may have hidden her with some of 
 those wild hermits because, she would be perfectly safe 
 there." 
 
 "Pshaw, but how can one get there, as Kshyvonos has pos- 
 session of the road," said Longin. "I hear that Yampol is 
 also a nest of banditti." 
 
 "And if I should wage ten heads," said Skshetuski, "I will 
 save her. I will disguise myself and look for her and God 
 will help me — I will find her." 
 
 "I will go with you Yan," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "And I will go as a beggar with my teorbane. Believe 
 me, sirs, I have more experience than any of you and as 
 I am really sick of the teorbane, I will take the bagpipes." 
 
 "Then, can I he of any assistance to you, little brother?" 
 said Longin. 
 
 "Certainly!" answered Zagloba, "If it is necessary to cross 
 the Dnieper, you can carry us over like St. Christopher." 
 
 "I thank you with all my heart, gentlemen," said Skshe- 
 tuski, "and I accept your offer with a Joyful heart. There is 
 nothing like true friends in adversity, and Providence has 
 not denied me these, as I see. The Great God grant me that 
 I may be enabled to recompense you with my health and 
 means." 
 
 "We shall all be like one man," cried Zagloba, "God ap- 
 proves of concord, and you will see that our labor will not 
 be ia vain." 
 
5o6 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Well, there's nothing left to me," said Skshetuski, after 
 a silence, "l)ut to lead the men back to the prince and to 
 start out with you at once. We will go along the Dniester 
 until we pass Yampol and get to Yahorlik, and search 
 everywhere, and, if, as I hope, Khymelnitski is already 
 beaten, or will be before we reach the prince, we shall not 
 be delayed by public duty. The regiments will surely go to 
 the tTsiaine, to subdue the rebellion there, but they will get 
 on without us." 
 
 "Wait a -minute, gentlemen," said Tolodiyovski, "after 
 Khmyelnitski, Kshyvonos wiU probably come to the front. 
 Perhaps we maj' all march with the cavalry to Yampol."" 
 
 "No, we must get there first,"" answered Zagloba, "First 
 we will take the men back, in order to be unencumbered. I 
 hope that the prince will be contented with us." 
 
 "Especially with you." 
 
 "It is so, I shall bring the best news. Believe me, I ex- 
 pect a reward." 
 
 "WeU, shall we set out?" 
 
 "We must wait till to-morrow,'" said Tolodiyovski, "How- 
 ever, Skshetuski must give orders, for he is our leader, but, 
 if we start to-day, I warn you that my horses may not carry 
 us." 
 
 "I know that it is impracticable," said Skshetuski, "but 
 I think that, after the horses have been well fed, we can ven- 
 ture it to-morrow." 
 
 The following morning, they set out. According to the 
 prince's orders, they were to return to Zbaraj and there await 
 further orders. They rode, therefore, by way of Kujmin, 
 passing to one side of Felshtin to Volochisk where the old 
 highway led past Khlebanovka to Zbaraj. The journey was 
 unpleasant, for it was raining; but they travelled without dis- 
 turbance, and Pan Longin, alone, who had ridden ahead with 
 a hundred horse, defeated a few bold bands who had collected 
 in the rear of the army of the commander-in-chief. It was 
 not till they reached Volochisk that they halted for a night's 
 rest. But, hardly had they fallen asleep after their long 
 journey, when the alarm of the watch announced that a divi- 
 sion of horse was approaching. Soon after, came the news 
 that it was Vyershul with his Tartar squadrons, consequently 
 their own people. 
 
 Zagloba, Longin and Little Volodiyovski gathered at once 
 in Skshetuski's room; and, following immediately behind 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^ 
 
 them, an officer of the light cavalry dashed into the room 
 like a whirlwind, out of breath and completely covered with 
 mud. When Skshetuski saw him he cried: 
 
 "Vyershul!" 
 It is I . . . " said the new comer, gasping for breath. 
 
 "From the prince?" 
 
 "Yes. . . . Oh, give me some air for breath!" 
 
 "Whai kind of news? Is Khmyelnitski defeated already?" 
 
 "All. . . over. . . with the Commonwealth!" 
 
 "By Christ's wounds, what are you saying there? Defeat?" 
 
 "A defeat, disgrace and ignominy! Without a battle. . . 
 a panic! Woe! Woe!" 
 
 "I cannot believe my own ears. Speak, speak! By the 
 Living God. . . . and the Commander?" 
 
 "They have fled." 
 
 "Where is our prince." 
 
 "He is retreating . . . without an army ... I have 
 come from him ... the command is ... to go at 
 once to Lemberg . . . they are following us." 
 
 "Who? Vyershul, Vyershul! Think what you're saying 
 man, who?" 
 
 "Khymelnitski— the Tartars!" 
 
 "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost!" 
 cried Zagloba, "The world is out of joint." 
 
 But Skshetuski understood what was at stake. 
 
 "We will ask questions later,' 'he said, "now let us mount." 
 
 "To horse! To horse!" 
 
 The hoofs of Vyershul's Tartars horses were heard clat- 
 tering outside the windows. The inhabitants of the place, 
 awakened by the entrance of the soldiery, came with lan- 
 terns and torches out of the houses. The news, spread like 
 lightning over the town. Alarm bells were presently sounded 
 The little town only a moment before was so peaceful, was 
 now filled with screams, tramping of horses, cries of com- 
 mand and the wails of the Jews. The inhabitants wanted to 
 leave the town in the company of the soldiery. Wagons were 
 got ready, and children, women, and bedding were placed in 
 them. The burgomaster, at the head of some of the residents, 
 came to entreat Skshetuski not to leave them behind, but to 
 allow them to accompany him, at least as far as Tamopol. 
 But Skshetuski would not listen to it, as he had direct orders 
 from the prince to hasten to Lemburg. 
 
 They set out, therefore, and, not till they started, did 
 
5o8 
 
 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Vyershul, after having recovered himself to some extent, re- 
 late to them what had happened. 
 
 ■"Xo such misfortune," said he, "has ever hefaUen the 
 Commonwealth since she came into existence; Tsetsara, Zolta 
 Woda, and Korsun are comparatively nothing!" 
 
 And Skshetuski, Volodiyovski, and Longin bent towards 
 the horses' necks, now taking hold of their own heads, now 
 lifting up their hands. 
 
 '"The thing passes human understanding,' 'he said, "where 
 is the prince?" 
 
 'Torsaken, intentionally put into the background by all. 
 He has not power, even over his own division." 
 
 "^Tio has the command?" 
 
 "ZSTo one, and every one. I have served a long time and 
 have already cut my teeth in the war, but such soldiers and 
 such leaders I never saw." 
 
 Zagloba, who had no special liking for Tyershul, and did 
 not knoTT him well, s-hook his head and smacked with his lips. 
 
 At last h€ said: 
 
 '"il}' good sir, either you did not see clearly, or perhaps you 
 regard a partial a? a total defeat; for what you have told us, 
 entirely passes in imagination." 
 
 "I grant it: but I tell you, sir, that I would willingly let 
 my head be chopped off if, by some miraculous chance, I 
 should be shown that I ana. mistaken." 
 
 "Then," continued Zagloba, "liow is it that you are the 
 first to come to Yoloohysk after the defeat? I will not pre- 
 simie that you were the first that took to your heels. Where 
 is the army? Whither is it fleeing? What happened to it? 
 Why, if it ran away, did it not get here before you? I am 
 waiting in vain for an answer!" 
 
 Vyershul, at any other time, nx>uld not have let these 
 quesd:ions pass without remark; but now he could think of 
 nothing but of the calamity. Therefore he only said: 
 
 '"I came here first, because the others have retreated by way 
 of OJYgovts. And the prince sent me here on purpose, be- 
 cause he judged that you were here, gentlemen, and he 
 wished to warn j'ou about the enemy, that you might not be 
 overtaken; and, secondly, because the five hundred horses that 
 you have are no small comfort at this time, as the other divi- 
 sion are almos>t all killed or separated." 
 
 "These are wonderful things," murmured Zagloba. 
 
 "It is frightful to think of it, despair seizes one, one's heart 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. ^09 
 
 breaks, tears flow," said Volodyovski, wringing his hands; "the 
 country is lost, d^ath has beeomie inglorious — such splendid 
 armies scattered .... destroyed! li cannot be otherwise 
 than that the end of the world is here, the last day of judg- 
 ment approaches." 
 
 "Do not interrupt him," said Skshetuski, "let him tell it 
 all." 
 
 Vyershul was silent awhile, as though he would gather 
 strength. Nothing was to be heard but the splashing of 
 hoofs in the mud, for it was raining. It was late at night 
 and very dark as the heaven was covered with thick clouds. 
 And, in the midst of this darkness, this cloud, Vyershul's 
 words sounded weird and gruesome, as he continued: 
 
 "If I did not hope to fall in battle, I should lose my reason. 
 You, genitlemen, speak of the day of Judgment and say it will 
 soon dawn — I believe it is now here. Everything is falling 
 to the ground; wickedness is getting the upper hand of virtue; 
 anti-Christ is abroad in the world. You did not see all that 
 happened, but, if you cannot even stand the description of 
 rt, how shall I describe to you the whole misfortune, the 
 whole ignominy, which I witnessed with my own eyes! God 
 gave us a favorable beginning to this war. Our prince, after 
 he had passed sentence on Lashch at Cholhanski Kamyen, 
 forgot everything else, and made friends with Prince Domi- 
 nik. We were all delighted at this reconciliation and God's 
 blessing seemed to rest upon it. The prince was victorious 
 at Konstantinov and, even took the town, for the enemy for- 
 sook it after the first attack; then we went to Pilavyets, 
 although the prince was opposed. to it. But, on the way, we 
 became aware of intrigues against him, envy and disaffection 
 and open agitation. In the councils, his advice was not 
 listened to; no attention was paid to it; and especial pains was 
 taken to divide our forces, so that the prince should not have 
 them all vnder his control. If he had then opposed them, 
 he would have received all the blame for the defeat, so he 
 was silent and patiently endured everything. Thus, the light 
 cavaliy by order of the commander-in-chief with Vurtsel and 
 his cannon with Captain Makhnitski, remained in Konstanti- 
 nov. They separated the Lithuanian field-commander Osin- 
 ski and Korytski's squadron; so that all that remained with the 
 prince were the Hussars under Zatsvilikhowski, two regiments 
 of dragoons and a portion of my regiment under my com- 
 mand; in all, theire were hardly two thousand men. Prom 
 
jio WITH FIRE AXD 8W0BD. 
 
 that time, they seemed to despise him. I even heard some of 
 Prince Dominik's favoriios say, "If we can gain a victory now, 
 they will not be able to say any longer that it was Yishnyovx - 
 etski's work alone;' and they talked and said that if the 
 prince gained so much glory, his candidate Prince Charles 
 would probably be elected when a king was chosen; and they 
 did not wish him, but Prince Casimir. The whole army was 
 affected by the contagion of their example, and groups of 
 disputants were formed just as if Delegates were sent io the 
 Diet — one thought of everything but the battle; just as if 
 the enemy had already been defeated. If I were to tell you, 
 gentlemen, about the dinners and vivats, and the lu3:uTy there, 
 you would hardly believe me. The armies of Pyrrhus, gleam- 
 ing with gold, jewels, and ostrich plumes, were nothing in 
 comparison with this army. With two himdred thousand 
 followers and a multitude of carriages followed us; the horses 
 swayed beneath the weight of the gold stuffs and silk tents 
 and the carriages beneath the weight of crockery, etc. It 
 would appear that we were setting out to conquer the whole 
 world. The noblemen belonging to the miUtia cracked their 
 whips day and night. 'How can we keep the peasants in 
 order without drawing our swords,' said they. And we, old 
 soldiers, foresaw evil at the sight of this imparalleled pride. 
 And now began the trouble about Kisyelov. Some main- 
 tained that he was a traitor, others that he was an honorable 
 Senator. Heated with drink, men fought with swords. 
 There were no sentries, no one maintained order, no one car- 
 ried on any supervision; each did as he wished, went where it 
 seemed to him best, stood where it pleased him beet. The 
 servants created a disturbance — Oh merciful God, that was 
 a pleasure trip, no military expedition; a carnival upon which 
 the honor of the Commonwealth was danced away, drunk 
 away, ridden away— and, finally, traded away." 
 
 "We are yet alive," said Pan Volodiyovski. 
 
 "And God is in heaven," added Skshetuski. 
 
 Another pause, and then Tyershul continued: 
 
 "We are totally ruined, unless God works a miracle; 
 ceases to punish us for our sins and shows us undeserved 
 mercy. There are moments, when, what I have seen, appears 
 incredible to me and I feel as if it was all a nightmare. . . ." 
 
 "Go on, sir," said Zagloba, "you came to Pilavyets, and. 
 after that?" 
 
 "And stopped there. Wha.t the commanders decided 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^U 
 
 there,' — I do not know. At the Day of Judgment, they will 
 give an account of itj for, if they had then attacked Khmyel- 
 nitski suddenly, he would have been beaten and completely 
 routed, as true as God is in Heaven; in spite of the disorder, 
 the want of discipline, the tumult and the lack of a leader. The 
 'blacks' there were already filled with fear; they were con- 
 sulting how they should deliver up Khmyelnitski and the 
 captains; and he, himself, was thinking of taking to flight. 
 Our prince rode from tent to tent, praying, entreating, threat- 
 ening, 'Let us make an assault otherwise the Tartars will 
 come, let us arttack them' — ^and he tore his hair — ^and the 
 other leaders looked at one another, and nothing, nothing! 
 They were drinking and holding a council. There was a 
 rumor that the Tartars were coming; that the Khan was ap- 
 proaching with two hundred thousand horsemen — they con- 
 tinued their council. The prince shut himself up alone in 
 his tent, for they had rebuffed him completely. It was 
 already common talk among the soldiers that the Chan- 
 cellor had forbidden Prince Dominik to begin a bat- 
 tle — that negotiations were being carried on. The disorder 
 increased — finally the Tartars came, but God was yet with us 
 on the first day. The prince»attacked them; Osinski and Pan 
 Lashch held -out bravely; obliged the horde to vacate the 
 field; killed a considerable number and then — " 
 
 Here Pan Vyersul's voice became inaudible. 
 
 "And then?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "Then came a tserrible, indescribable night. I remember, 
 that I was keeping watch with my men beside the river, when, 
 suddenly, I heard the thunder of cannon and a screaming in 
 the Cossack camp, as if they were firing a salute. Then I re- 
 membered that they had told me yesterday that the whole 
 Tartar force had not arrived, but only Tukhay Bey with a 
 portion of them. I thought, therefore, when I heard them 
 firing salutes, that the Khan must have come himself; until, 
 all at once a tumult arose in our oamp. I sprang forward 
 with some of my men. What has happened? They answered 
 'the commanders have fled!' I hastened to Prince Dominik, 
 he was gone; to the cup-bearer — ^he was gone; to the crown 
 ensign — he was gone. Jesus of Nazareth! the soldiers were 
 running about on the square; screams, shouts, crying, noise, 
 tumult, the flash of torches in every direction. Where are 
 the commanders? Where are the commanders? Others 
 cried. To horse! To horse! Others, again, save yourself, 
 
512 WITH FIRE A^D SWORD. 
 
 brothers! Treason! Treason!' Holding their hands in the 
 air with vrHd looks, their eyes starting out of their heads, 
 crowding each other, trampling, crushing eac-h other, they 
 mounted their horses and hurried off, bUndly without their 
 weapons. Others east away helmets, armor, weapons, tents. 
 Finally, the prince, in his silver armor appeared at the head 
 of his hussars. Six torches, were carried beside him. He 
 stood up in his stirrups and cried, 'Grentlemen, I am still here; 
 come to me!' His call remained unanswered; they heard 
 notliing. They crowded upon the hussars, threw them into 
 confusion, trampled men and horses to the ground, and we 
 hardly succeeded in saving the prince. Then, the whole 
 army, plunging over trampled fires in the darkness, like a 
 rushing stream, like a swollen cataract; the whole army fled 
 in wild terror, out of the camp; scattered, disappeared, fled. . 
 There is no longer any army, no leaders, no commonwealth, 
 only ignominy; and the Cossacks' foot is on the neck. . . "' 
 
 Pan Vyershul groaned and pulled on the reins, for mad- 
 ness and despair had possession of him; and this despair was 
 shared by the rest, who rode through the night and rain like 
 men bereft of reason. 
 
 The}' had ridden for some ^ime, Zagloba interrupted, 
 ''Without fighting a battle! Oh ye knaves, oh ye dogs! Do 
 you remember how boastful they were in Zbaraj, how they 
 were going to eat KhmyelnitsM, without pepper and salt? 
 Oh you knaves!" 
 
 "Why," cried Vyershul, "they fled after the first battle they 
 won against the Tartare and the ^blacks'. After a battle in 
 which even the militia fought like Uons." 
 
 "This is the finger of God," said Skshetuski, "but there 
 is some mystery here which must be cleared up." 
 
 "It is not; unusiial for soldiers to run away," said Volodiyo- 
 vski, "but in this case, the leaders were the first to leave the 
 camp; as though they would intentionally make the victory 
 easier for their enemies, and give over their army to 
 slaughter." 
 
 "That's just it, that's just it!" said Yvershnl, "it is said that 
 it was done on purpose." 
 
 'TDone on purpose? By God's wounds that cannot be!" 
 
 "So it is said, but why? What is behind that? Who can 
 guess?" 
 
 "Oh may the earth swallow them up, may their race die out 
 and their memory be covered with everlasting ignominy," 
 said Zagloba. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^i^ 
 
 "Amen," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "Amen," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Amen," said Velodyovski. 
 
 "Amen," repeated Pon Longin. 
 
 There is only one man who can yet save the country; if 
 they will give him the baton and the remaining powers of 
 the Commonwealth. There is only one, for neither the no- 
 bility nor the army will hear of any other." 
 
 "The prince!" said Skshetuski. 
 
 "It is he." 
 
 "We will stand and fall with him — long live Yeremy Vi- 
 shnyoyetski," cried Zagloba. 
 
 "Long may he live," answered about a score of unsteady 
 voices. But the cry died away, for it was no time for cheers 
 when the ground seemed to be opening under their feet, and 
 the heavens seemed threatening to fall down on them. There 
 was no time for shouts and vivats. Meanwhile, day was 
 breaking and, in the distance, the walls of Tamopol became 
 visible in the dim morning light. 
 
 33 
 
CHAPTER IX, 
 
 The first fugitives from Pilavyets reached Lemburg at day- 
 break on the 26th of September, at the moment thait the 
 gates of the town were opened. The dreadful news spread 
 with the rapidity of hgbtning through the whole town, 
 awakening in some, doubt and terror; in others, and these the 
 greater number, the desire for a desperate battle. Skshetuski 
 had arrived with his division two days later,' when the town 
 was already full of fugitive soldiery, nobiUty and armed citi- 
 zens. They were already thinking of preparing for defence, as 
 the Tartars were expected to arrive at any moment; but they 
 did not yet know who would place himself at their head and 
 what steps would be taken. Consequently, panic and dis- 
 order reigned. Many fled from the town to seek safety for 
 their families and their possessions; but the dwellers in the 
 vicinity, on the contrary, sought shelter in the town; the de- 
 parting and entering crowds blocked the streets and caused 
 tumults for the right of way. Eyervwhere might be seen 
 carriages, packages, bundles and horses, also soldiers of the 
 most varied uniforms. On all faces might be seen uneasiness 
 and feverish expectation, despair or resignatio ;. At ever}- 
 moment, like a sudden blast of wind, came fresh terror. 
 Loud cries were heard; '"they come! they come!" and the 
 crowd rolled forward bUndly like a wave, driven by mad fear, 
 until they saw that a new company of fugitives was approach- 
 ing; and these companies increased in number. But what a 
 sad sight was presented bj* these soldiers, who, a short time 
 before had marched out from here in gold and plumes; with 
 songs on their lips and pride in their eves to march against 
 the peasant mob! To-day they came back, tattered, fa- 
 mished, haggard and covered with mud on wearj' horses, tlie 
 signs of disgrace in their faces, more like beggars than 
 knights. They might have aroused pity, if there had been 
 time for any such feeUng in this town, against whose walls 
 the entire force of the enemy might soon be raging. And 
 each one of these disgraced knights comforted himself with 
 
 S14 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^15 
 
 the knowledge that he had so many thousands of ecmpanions 
 in shame. All hid themselves in the first hour, in order to re- 
 cover themselves, to make complaints, to utter curses and 
 threats, to prowl about the streets, to drink in the wineshops 
 and tO' increase, if possible, the disorder and the panic. 
 
 For each one repeated the same thing, "the Tartars are 
 on our heels!" Some said they had seen sm'oke behind them; 
 others swore by all the saints thait they had already been 
 obliged to defend themselves against their pursuers. The 
 crowds who surrounded ^the soldiers, listened attentively to 
 these tidings. The roofs and church towers were packed 
 with thousands of anxious citizens, the alarm bells were rung; 
 and a crowd of women and children choked the churches, in 
 which, amid the glow of wax candles, gleamed the sacred 
 host. 
 
 Skshetuski forced his way gradually with his company from 
 the Halitski gate through crowds of horses, wagons, soldiers, 
 and through groups of citizens who were standing beneath 
 their banners and through the people who looked in astonish- 
 ment at this squadron which moved in perfect battle order 
 through the town. They began to shout to one another that 
 help was coming and, at once a most baseless joy took posses- 
 sion of the populace, who crowded round Skshetuski in order 
 to seize his stirrup; other soldiers approached with the cry, 
 "Those are Vishnyovyetski's men! Long live Prince 
 Yeremy." Such a crowd collected that the regiment could 
 only move forward a step at a time. 
 
 Suddenly a division of dragoons, with an officer at their 
 head came towards them. The soldiers separated the crowd, 
 the officer crying, "Out of the way! Make room!" and 
 striking with the flat of his sword those who did not im- 
 mediately move out of his way. 
 
 Skshetuski recognized Kushel. 
 
 The young officer heartily greeted his friend. 
 
 "What times! What times!" he said. 
 
 "Where is the prince?" asked Skshetuski. 
 
 "He would have died of sorrow if you had remained away 
 much longer. He was already very anxious about you and 
 your men. He is now in the Oonvent of St. Bernard. I am 
 sent out to keep order in the town but Grozvayer has already 
 taken hold of the thing. I will ride with you to the church. 
 They are going to hold a council there." 
 
 "In the church?" 
 
5i6 WITH FIRE AXD tiWOBD. 
 
 '"Yes, they want to offer the prince the baton of field- 
 marshal; for the soldiers declare that they will not defend the 
 town under any other leader." 
 
 "Let us go, then, I also am in a hurry to see the prince." 
 
 The two companies united and rode off together. On 
 the way, Skshetuski enquired about everj-thing that had hap- 
 pened in Lembuxg and if they had decided to defend it. 
 
 "They are just considering the matter," said Kushel, "The 
 citizens want to defend it. What times these are! The men 
 of lower rank show more heart than the nobles and the 
 soldiers." 
 
 "And the Commanders? What has happened to them? 
 Are they in the to^vn, and will they not make difiBculties for 
 the prince?" 
 
 "If he only does not make any himself! There have been 
 more favorable opportunties of giving him the field-marshal's 
 baton; now it is too late. The commanders dare not let them- 
 selves be seen. Prince Dominik rested for a short time in 
 the archbishop's palace and then went on his way. It was 
 well he did so, for you cannot beheve how bitter the soldiers 
 are against him. Although he has gone, they still keep cry- 
 ing, 'Give him to us! We will cut him down!' He would 
 not have escaped an attack. The cup-bearer arrived here 
 first, and he actually began to complain of the prince; but 
 now he is quiet, very quiet; for he has been threatened, too. 
 They accuse him to his face, and he only swallows his tears. 
 iMery thing is dreadful; what these times are! I tell you, I 
 thank God that you were not at Pilavyets; that you did not 
 need to fly, for it is a wonder that all who were there did not 
 go crazy." 
 
 "And our division?" 
 
 "jSTo longer exists! Hardly one man remains! Vurtsel 
 is lost, Makhnitski and Zatsvilikhovski are also lost. Vurtsel 
 and ilakhnitski w^ere not at Pilavyets for they remained in 
 Konstantinov. That Beelzebub, Prince Dominik, left them 
 behind there in order to weaken our prince's power. No one 
 knows if tihey escaped or were taken by the enemy. Old 
 Zatsvilikhovski has disappeared like a stone in the water. 
 God grant, he may not be killed." 
 
 "Are many soldiers gathered here?" 
 ■ "Enough; but what good does that do? The prince, alone, 
 can restore order, if he takes the command; for they will 
 obey no one else. The prince was terribly anxious about you 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^ly 
 
 and the soldiers. Yours is the only entire regiment that is 
 left. We were already mourning for you." 
 
 "Anyone who is mourned at this time, may count himself 
 happy." 
 
 They rode for a time in silence, looking at the crowd and 
 listening to the noise and the cry, "The Tartars! The Tar- 
 tars!" They came across the horrible spectacle of a man torn 
 in pieces, whom the crowd suspected of being a spy. The 
 bells rang unceasingly. 
 
 "Will the horde be here soon?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "The Devil knows. Perhaps they may be here to-day. This 
 town cannot defend itself long. Khmyelnitski is coming with 
 two hundred thousand Cossacks, beside the Tartars." 
 
 "The town is lost," answered the nobleman. "It would 
 have been better for us to have ridden away at breakneck 
 speed. To what end have we won so many victories!" 
 
 "Over whom?" 
 
 "Over Kshyvonos, Bohun, God knows over whom besides." 
 
 "But, ..." said Kushel, and, turning to Skshetuski, he 
 asked in a low voice: "And you, dear Yan, has not God com- 
 forted you? Have you not found what you sought? Have 
 you at least heard any news?" 
 
 "Now is no time to think about that," cried Skshetuski. 
 "Of what consequence am I and my afEairs, in comparison to 
 what has happened! All is vanity, vanity until at length 
 death comes." 
 
 "That is true," said Kushel. "The whole world must be 
 coming to an end very soon." 
 
 They had reached St. Bernard's church, which was brightly 
 lighted. An enormous crowd of men stood before the church, 
 but no one could enter, for a cordon of halberdiers defended 
 the entrance and allowed only the more important officers to 
 enter. 
 
 Skshetuski formed his men in two ranks. "Let us go in!" 
 said Kushel. "Half the Commonwealth is in the church." 
 
 They entered. Kushel had not exaggerated much. All 
 who were prominent in the army and in the town, had assem- 
 bled to the council. There were in ithe church, Voyevodas, 
 castellans, colonels, cayalry captains, foreign officers, spiritual 
 dignitaries, a crowd of nobility, a number of officers of lower 
 rank, and some civil officers under Grozvayer, who was in 
 command of the citizens. There were present, also the prince, 
 Cup-Bearer, one of the commanders, the Voyevoda of Kiev, 
 
5i8 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 the Starosta of Stobnitski, and Vessel and Artsishevski, and 
 the Lithuanian' field marshal Pan Osinski. These sat before 
 the high altar so that the public could see them. They took 
 coimcil in feverish haste, as is usual in such eases. The 
 speakers rose on benches and conjured the chief oflicers not 
 to give the town into the hands of the enemy without resist- 
 ance. "And though we should ourselves be destroyed in the 
 attempt, the town will hold out, the Commonwealth will re- 
 cover! What do we need for defence? The walls are there, 
 the soldiers are there and the determination is there — only the 
 leader is lacking!" And, as this was said, a murmur arose in 
 the crowd, which soon resolved itself into a loud shout. The 
 people were seized with enthusiasm. ''We will die, we will 
 willingly die," they cried, "to wipe out the disgrace of Pilav- 
 yets; to save the country!" And now was heard a clashing of 
 swords and the bare blades gleamed in the candle light while 
 some called out, "Calm yourselves, let us take council quietly. 
 Shall we defend ourselves, or shall we not?" 
 
 "We will defend ourselves! We will defend ourselves!" 
 cried the crowd, so that the walls rang. "We will defend our- 
 selves! Who will lead us, who is our leader? Prince Yeremy 
 — he is our leader, he is a hero! He will defend the town and 
 the Commonwealth will give him the command — long live 
 Yeremy!" 
 
 Now, from a thousand throats arose a shout that made the 
 walls tremble and the panes in the church windows rattle. 
 
 "Yeremy! Yeremy! Long live the Priace! Long live the 
 Prince! Victory to him!" 
 
 A thousand sword-blades glittered; all eyes .i'ere turned 
 towards the prince and he rose quietly with a furrowed brow. 
 Instantly there was a deep silence: 
 
 "Gentlemen," said the prince in a sonorous voice which, 
 amid the silence, reached every ear, "when the Cimbri and 
 the Teutons attacked the Eoman Commonwealth, no one 
 cared to undertake the consulate, until iiarius took it. But 
 Marius had the right io seize it, for no leader had been chosen 
 by the Senate. . . . And I would not seek flight amid this 
 danger, but would dedicate my life to my beloved fatherland ; 
 but I dare not accept the baton, as, by so doing, I might 
 offend my country, the Senate and the higher authorities. I 
 will not be a self-appointed leader. Among us is the man 
 to whom the Commonwealth would give the baton — that is 
 the Crown Cup-Bearer. ..." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^jg 
 
 The prince was forced to stop speaking, for he had no 
 sooner mentioned the name of the Cup-Bearer than a fright- 
 ful noise and clashing of swords ensued. The crowd became 
 restless, gave vent to their feelings and flamed up like powder 
 to which a spark has been applied. "Away with him! Kill 
 him! Pereat!" echoed through the crowd. "Pereat, pereat!" 
 sounded in louder tones. 
 
 The Cup-Bearer sprang from his seat, pale, with large beads 
 of cold perspiration on his forehead. Threatening forms ap- 
 proached nearer the altar, and, already, were heard the omi- 
 nous words, "Give him to us!" 
 
 The prince, who saw what turn things were taking, stood 
 up and stretched forth his right hand. 
 
 The crowd stopped short. They thought the prince was 
 going to speak. In a moment all was quiet. But the prince 
 only wished to quiet the storm, to quell the tumult, to allow 
 no shedding of blood in the church; and he sat down again 
 when he saw that the danger was over. Separated from him 
 only by the Voyevoda of Kiev sat the jinf ortunate Cup-Bearer. 
 His gray head had sunk on his breast, his hands hung list- 
 lessly at his side and, from his mouth came these words, 
 broken with sobs: 
 
 "Lord! for my sins I am willing to bear my cross." 
 
 The old man might have awakened pity in the hardest 
 heart; but the mob is usually unmerciful; and the noise began 
 afresh. Suddenly the Voyevoda of Kiev stood up, and mo- 
 tioned with his hand that he was about to speak. He was a 
 companion in arms of Prince Yeremy, so that the people list- 
 ened to him willingly. 
 
 "He, however, turned to the prince and conjured him in the 
 most touching manner not to refuse the offer of the baton 
 and not to fail to save his country. "When the Common- 
 wealth is in danger, let all private discord cease. She will 
 not be saved by him who has been appointed, but by him who 
 is most competent to save her." 
 
 "Take the baton, thou unconquered hero! Take it! Save 
 her! Not the town alone, the whole Commonwealth. In her 
 name, I, the old man, entreat thee; and, with me, all ranks, 
 all men, all women and children entreat thee, save us — save 
 us!" 
 
 Something now occurred which moved all hearts. A woman 
 in deep mourning approached the altar and, casting some 
 jewels and gold ornaments at the feet of the prince, she 
 
520 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 kneeled before Mm and cried, sobbing loudly, "We bring thee 
 our possessions! We give our lives into thy hands. Save us! 
 Save us! — or we are lost." 
 
 At this sight, the Senators, the soldiery, and, with them 
 the whole crowd broke into loud weeping and, with one voice, 
 the cry resounded through the church: 
 
 "Save us!" 
 
 The prince covered his eyes with his hands and, when he 
 raised his face, his lashes were wet with tears; but still he 
 hesitated. What would be the effect on the Commonwealth 
 if he should accept the dignity of Commander. 
 
 Now the Cup-Bearer arose. 
 
 "I am old," he said, "unhappy, and bowed with care. I 
 ought to lay down the burden wliich is beyond my strength. 
 In the sight of the Crucified One, and of the assembled 
 knights, I deliver up my baton — ^take it!" 
 
 And he handed the symbol of his of&ce to Prince Vish- 
 nyovyetski. There was a moment of such deep silence that 
 one might have heard the winging of a fly, then Prince Yere- 
 mys voice was heard, saying in solemn tones: 
 
 "For my sins — I will accept it." 
 
 Xow ensued a wild scene in the crowd. They pressed for- 
 ward, fell at the feet of the prince and cast their treasures 
 and gold before him. The news flew like lightning through 
 the whole town, the soldiers were almost crazy with joy, and 
 cried that they would march against Khmyelnitski, the Tar- 
 tars and the Sultan. The citizens no longer thought of giv- 
 ing themselves up, but only of defending themselves, to the 
 last drop of blood. The Armenians brought voluntary gifts 
 of money to the town hall some time before there was any 
 talk of an assessment. The Jews, in their synagogues, raised 
 a cry of gratitude. The cannon on the ramparts announced 
 the joyfiil news; in the streets, muskets, guns and pistols were 
 fired. The cry, "Long live Yeremy!" continued the whole 
 night. "UTioever did not understand the situation noight have 
 thought that the town was celebrating a great triumph, or 
 was keeping a feast. 
 
 And, yet, at any moment, three hundred thousand of the 
 enemy, a larger army than the emperor of Germany, or the 
 French king, could call into the field, and more savage than 
 Tamerlane's forces, might besiege the walls of this town. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A week afterwards, on the morning of the sixth of Octoher, 
 the terrible and unexpected news was spread in Lemburg that 
 Prince Yeremy, taking with him the greater part of the army, 
 had left the town and no one knew whither he had gone. 
 
 GrroTips of people collected before the archbishop's palace; 
 at first they would not believe the news. The soldiers sur- 
 mised that if the prince had really gone it must have been at 
 the head of a large division of the army to explore the neigh- 
 borhood. It was said that deserters had spread false reports, 
 for they affirmed that at any moment Khmyelnitski and the 
 Tartars might appear. And since the twenty-sixth day of 
 September, ten days had already passed without any sign of 
 the enemy. The prince wished to convince himself with his 
 own eyes whether there was any danger and would probably 
 return when he had verified the reports. Besides, he had left 
 several regiments, and everything in readiness for defence. 
 
 This was what really happened. All kinds of orders were 
 given, posts assigned and the cannon brought on the ram- 
 parts. In the evening Captain Tsikhotski arrived with fifty 
 dragoons. They were surrounded at once by an eager crowd, 
 but he would not talk with them, but went straight to General 
 Artsishevski. They both sent for Grozvayer, and after a con- 
 sultation went to the Town Hall. Tsikhotski there told the 
 terrified audience that the prince had gone, never to return. 
 
 At the first moment, all were thunder-struck and bold 
 voices cried, "Traitor!" But Artsishevski at once arose. He 
 was an old man, celebrated as a leader for his great services in 
 the Holland army, and he spoke as follows to the soldiers 
 and the councillors: 
 
 "I have heard insulting words that had better never been 
 spoken, for despair could not justify them. The prince has 
 gone away and will never return — that is true; but what right 
 have you to demand that a leader, upon whose shoulders rests 
 the salvation of the whole country, should defend your little 
 town alone; what would happen ' ^ the rest of the army of the 
 
 521 
 
522 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Commoii wealth were surrounded by the enemy? We have 
 here neither provisions, nor arms, nor food, for such a large 
 army. Moreover, I tell you, and you^ may believe my words, 
 that the more soldiers you have shut up here, the shorter the 
 time of defence will last, for hunger would besiege us sooner 
 than the enemy. Khmyelrdtski cares more for the person 
 of the prince than he does for your town. When he finds out, 
 therefore, that he is no longer here; that he has collected a 
 new army and may come here to garrison it; he will be the 
 more likely to give in to you and listen to negotiations. To- 
 day you grumble, but I tell you that the prince, in leaving 
 this town and threatening Khmyehiitski from outside, is pro- 
 tecting you and your children. Contain yourselves, defend 
 yourselves, keep off the enemy for a time, and you will not 
 only save the town, but render the Commonwealth an ever- 
 lasting service. For the prince can meanwhile gather new 
 forces and garrison other fortresses. The torpid Common- 
 wealth wiU rouse itself from slumber and hasten to your as- 
 sistance. He has opened the only way of salvation; for if he 
 had fallen a sacrifice to hunger with his forces, no one would 
 have remained to repulse the enemy; who might then go 
 without resistance to Cracow and Warsaw and swarm over 
 the whole country. Therefore, instead of grumbling, run to 
 the walls to defend yourselves, your children, the town, and 
 the whole Commonwealth." 
 
 "To the walls! To the walls!" repeated several bold voices. 
 
 Grozvayer, an energetic and courageous man, remarked: 
 
 "Your silence, gentlemen, pleases me, and let me tell you 
 that your prince has not gone away without arranging every- 
 thing for the defence. Everybody knows what to do. What 
 has happened, had to happen. I have charge of the defence 
 and T will protect you till death." 
 
 Hope kindled anew in the anxious hearts, and Tsikhotski 
 then took up the word: 
 
 "His Excellency sends word that the enemy is at hand. 
 Lieutenant Skshetuski with one of his wings came across a 
 Tartar chambul of two thousand men and defeated them. 
 The prisoners say that an enormous force is follovring them." 
 
 This news made a great impression. There were a few 
 moments of silence and all hearts beat joyfully. "To the ram- 
 parts!" said Grozvayer. 
 
 -'To the ramparts! To the ramparts!" repeated the assem- 
 bled officers and citizens. 
 
WITH FIRE AND HWOIW. 1^23 
 
 At this moment, a noise was heard outside the windows. 
 Thousands of voices arose from a roaring crowd, that resem- 
 bled the waves of the sea. Suddenly the door was opened 
 with violence, several citizens dashed through it; and, before 
 the council had time to ask what had happened, a shout 
 arose: 
 
 "Flames in the sky! Flames in the sky!" 
 
 '"And the Word is become flesh!" said Grozvayer. "To the 
 ramparts! ! ! To the ramparts! ! !" 
 
 The hall was deserted. 
 
 A moment later, the thunder of cannon shook the walls of 
 the town and made the inhabitants tremble, announcing to 
 the suburbs and the outlying villages that the enemy was at 
 hand. The eastern sky was blood red as far as the eye could 
 reach. It looked as though a sea of fire was approaching the 
 town. 
 
 The prince, meanwhile, had marched to Zamost, and after 
 he had destroyed the little Tartar camp of which Tsikhotski 
 had spoken, he set to work to repair and garrison it, as it was 
 already a natural fortress; and, in a short time, had rendered 
 it impregnable. Skshetuski, with Pan Longin and a portion 
 of the squadron in the citadel, had remained with Pan Vey- 
 herz, the Starotsa of Valetsk; the prince proceeded to War- 
 saw in order to demand from the Diet means to provide a 
 fresh force, and also to take part in the election of the king, 
 which was to be held at that time. Vishnyovyetski's fate and 
 that of the whole Commonwealth hung on this election; for, 
 if Prince Charles were elected, the war party would maintain 
 the upper hand — the prince would receive the chief command 
 over the united armies of the Commonwealth and it would 
 lead up to a decisive battle, for death or life, with Khmyel- 
 nitski. Prince Casimir, although well known for his per- 
 sonal courage and for his warlike character, was justly con- 
 sidered a partisan of Chancellor Ossolinski, whose politics 
 tended to negotiations with the Cossacks and the granting to' 
 them of great concessions. Both brothers made no enrl of 
 promises and strove to increase the number of their follow- 
 ers. Consequently, as they each had an equal chance, no 
 one could foresee the resillt of the election. The chancellor's 
 party feared that Vishnyovyetski, thanks to his e^er-increas- 
 ing fame and the love which the nobility and the knights 
 tore him, would obtain a majority for Prince Charles; and 
 
524 WITH FIRE l.VO t<WORD. 
 
 the prince, on account of these apprehensions, desired to sup- 
 port his candidate in person. Therefore he hastened to War- 
 saw, with the certainty that Zamost was in a condition to 
 stand a long siege against the whole strength of Khmyelnit- 
 ski and the Crimea. Lemburg might, to all appearances, be 
 regarded as secure; for Khmyelnitski would certainly not 
 waste time in storming this town when he had the far more 
 important Zamost before him; which blocked his way into the 
 heart of the Commonwealth. These thoughts cheered the 
 prince and filled his heart with renewed confidence, which he 
 needed, in his present anxious condition regarding the fate 
 of his country. He hoped surely that, even if Casimir were 
 chosen, he would see that the war had became an unavoidable 
 necessity, and that this terrible rebellion could only be 
 drowned in a sea of blood. He expected also that the Com- 
 monwealth would fit out another army; for even negotiations 
 could not be carried on without the assistance of a mighty 
 military force. 
 
 Lulled by such thoughts, the prince, under the protection 
 of several regiments, rode alongside Zagloba and A'olodiyov- 
 ski; the former swore by all he held dear that he would bring 
 about the election of Prince Charles, as he knew how to talk 
 to his noble brethren and how to take them. The latter com- 
 manded the Prince's escort. In Siennits, not far from ilinsk, 
 the Prince was surprised by an agreeable and quite unex- 
 pected meeting. He found Princess Grizelda there. She was 
 hastening from Bjesh-Litevsk to Warsaw, so as to be in 
 greater safety, and also with the hope that she might find the 
 prince there. Their meeting was a very happy one and all the 
 more so as it was so unexpected. The princess, although a 
 woman of iron courage, threw herself with sobs and tears into 
 the arms of her husband and could not be quieted for some 
 hours; for how often had she given up all hope of ever seein? 
 him again. And now God had permitted him to return more 
 famous than ever, with more veneration accorded him than 
 any of his race had yet received. 
 
 The greatest leader, the one hope of the Commonwealth. 
 The princess, raising her head from his shoulder, looked 
 through her tears at his tanned, emaciated face, at his noble 
 forehead, upon which care and fatigue had traced deep fur- 
 rows, at his eyes, red and weary from sleepless nights; and her 
 tears flowed afresh and all her ladies of honor wept with her 
 from the depths of their hearts. Gradually she became 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 525 
 
 calmer, and accompanied by the prince went into the spacious 
 house of the provost. And then began questions and inquiries 
 about friends, about courtiers and knights who had been con- 
 sidei'ed as part of their own family, and who were associated 
 in her memory with Lubni. The prince quieted her anxiety 
 about Pan Skshetuski and explained to her that he had only 
 remained in Zamost because, amidst all the sorrow that God 
 had laid on him, he could not endure the noise of the capital, 
 but preferred rough military service, in order to deaden the 
 wounds of his heart. The prince then introduced Pan Zag- 
 loba and praised his exploits. "This is an incomparable 
 man," he said, "who not only snatched the young Panna 
 Kurtsevich out of Bohun's hands, but also led her in safety 
 through Khmyelnitski's camp, and through the midst of the 
 Tartars; and also conducted himself in the most praiseworthy 
 manner at Konstantinov." When the princess heard this, 
 she was profuse in her compliments to Pan Zagloba, repeat- 
 edly held out her hand for him to kiss and promised him at 
 some future time a better reward. The incomparable man 
 bowed low, maintaining the modesty of a hero; and then he 
 became puffed up and winked over at the court ladies; for, 
 although he was old and did not make any further conquests 
 among the fair sex, he was yet flattered that so many had 
 heard of his bravery and his exploits. But this meeting was 
 not one of unmixed joy; for, apart from the thought of the 
 sad times that oppressed the Commonwealth, the princess was 
 painfully affected when, in answer to her frequent inquiries 
 for this or the other well-known knight, she received the an- 
 swer, "He is dead, he is dead, he has fallen!" The young 
 ladies were also cast down, for among these names were more 
 than one that they loved. 
 
 Thus joy was blended with sadness, and tears with smiles. 
 But the one who grieved the most was Pan Volodiyovski, for 
 in vain he looked round him on all sides and cast his eyes in 
 every direction — ^Princess Barbara was not to be seen. In- 
 deed, during the fatigues of war, the continual battles, en- 
 counters and marches, this cavalier, who was by nature as 
 susceptible in love as he was inconstant, had partially for- 
 gottfen his fair lady. But now, when he saw the court ladies 
 of the princess and the life in Lubni came vividly to his mind, 
 he thought to himself that, now the hour of rest had arrived, 
 it would be agreeable to sigh and to awaken afresh the flame 
 of his heart. But, as he could not do this and his old inclinar 
 
526 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 tion, as if out of obstinacy awoke once more. Pan Volodiyov- 
 ski grieved greatly and looked as if drenched by rain. He 
 hung his head, and his slender moustachios, which were usu- 
 ally twisted upwards till the ends almost reached his nostrils 
 like the feelers of a cockchafer, now hung down too. His 
 pug nose seemed to grow longer, his face had lost its ordinary 
 cheerful expression, and he stood stiU, and did not move, even 
 when the prince in turn praised his courage and his remark- 
 able endowments. What did he care for words of praise if she 
 could not hear them? 
 
 Anusia Borzobahata took pity on him, and although they 
 continually had spats she resolved to comfort him. "Vi'ith 
 this intention, after casting a side glance at the princess, she 
 moved gradually nearer to the knight until she was close be- 
 side him. 
 
 "Good morning. Pan," she said, "we have not seen one 
 another for a long time." 
 
 "Alas, Panna Anna," answered Pan Michael, in a melan- 
 choly voice, "a flood of water has poured over us since then 
 and we meet in sad times and not all of us." 
 
 "It is true, that not all of us are here, for many knights 
 have been killed." 
 
 Here Anna sighed and presently continued: "Our number 
 is smaller than it was, for Panna Syenyutovna is married and 
 Princess Barbara remained with the Voyevodovna of Vilna." 
 
 "And she will be married, too." 
 
 "Wo, she is not thinking about that yet; but why do you 
 ask. Sir?" 
 
 As she said this she dropped her dark little eyes so that only 
 the eyelids were visible and looked askance beneath her lashes 
 at the knight. 
 
 "On account of my well wishes for the family," answered 
 Pan Michael. 
 
 "That is yght. Pan Michael," answered Anusia, "for Prin- 
 cess Barbara is a very good friend of yours. She often asked 
 'where is my young knight who at the tourney in Lubni has 
 thrown iovra so many Turkish heads, for which I rewarded 
 him? What is he doing? I wonder if he is alive and still re- 
 members us?'" 
 
 Pan Michael raised his eyes gratefully to Anusia and was 
 happy, and then observed that Anna had improved remark- 
 ably. 
 
 "Did Princess Barbara really say that?" he asked. 
 
WITE FIRE AND 8W0BD. ^27 
 
 "As true as I live and — she remembered how you jumped 
 across the moat for her that time you fell into the water." 
 
 "And where is Pani Voyevodovna of Vilnanov?" 
 
 "She was with us in Brest Litovski, a week ago she went to 
 Belsk, and from there will go to Warsaw." 
 
 Volodiyovski looked at Anusia the second time and could 
 not contain himself any longer. 
 
 "And you, Panna Anna," he said, "have grown so beautiful 
 that it fairly blinds one to look at you." 
 
 The girl smiled thankfully. 
 
 "Pan Michael, you are only saying this to capture me." 
 
 "I might have done it once," he said, shrugging his shoul- 
 ders. "God knows I tried it and could not, and now — I wish 
 Pan Podbipyenta happiness." 
 
 "And where is Pan Podbipyenta?" asked Anusia in a low 
 tone, with her eyes cast down. 
 
 "In Zamost with Skshetuski. He has been- promoted to 
 the lieutenancy and is in active service, but if he had known 
 whom he would see here, as true as God is in heaven, he would 
 have taken leave and ridden here with giant strides. He is 
 a great cavalier who deserves every favor." 
 
 "And did he meet with reverses in the war?" 
 
 "It seems to me that you don't want to ask that, but 
 whether he has got the three heads that he was determined 
 to cut off." 
 
 "I do not believe that he meant that in earnest." 
 
 "And yet, you must believe it, Panna; without those heads, 
 he can do nothing. He is seeking every opportunity to find 
 them. At Makhnovka, we even rode into the middle of the 
 battle, iji which he was fighting his way in the crowd, in order 
 to look at him. The prince himself was with us, for I must 
 tell you that I have been in many battles, but I never saw 
 stich slaughter as I saw there, and I will never forget it. 
 When he fastens your scarf round him, he can fight terribly. 
 He will find his three heads. Do not be anxious." 
 
 "May each one find what they seek," said Anusia, sighing. 
 
 Volodiyovski also sighed and turned his eyes to the ceil- 
 ing. He was suddenly surprised at something he saw in one 
 corner of the room. 
 
 In this corner an angry, fiery face entirely unknown to him, 
 was staring at him. This face possessed a gigantic nose, and 
 moustaches that looked like wisps and twitched nervously as 
 if in suppressed passion. 
 
528 WITH FIRE A^'D iiWORD. 
 
 Any one might have been frightened for that nose, those 
 eyes and moustaches, but little Pan Yolodiyovski was not at 
 all backward, therefore, as said above, he only wondered, and 
 tujming to Anusia, asked: "What kind of man is that in the 
 comer who is looking at me as if he would like to swallow me, 
 which moved quickly, like an old Tom cat at prayers?" 
 
 "That, said Anna, showing her little white teeth, "that is 
 Pan Kharlamp." 
 
 "What kind of a heathen is that?" 
 
 "He is no heathen at all, but the Captain in the light 
 horse, of the Voyevoda of Vilna, who is taking us to Warsaw 
 and is to wait there for the Toyevoda. Do not offend him. 
 Pan Michael, for he is a great man-eater." 
 
 "I see that, I see that; but if he is a man-eater there are 
 fatter morsels than I. AVherefore should he sharpen his 
 teeth on me and not on some one else?" 
 
 "Because . . " said Anusia, giggling gently. 
 
 "Because what?" 
 
 "Because he is in love with me and told me himself that 
 he would tear anyone to pieces who came near me and now- — 
 believe me — it is only the presence of the prince and princess 
 that prevents him from seeking a quarrel with you imme- 
 diately." 
 
 "Xow you have it!" said Pan Volodiyovski, gladly. "Is 
 that so, Panna Anna? Oh, I see now that it was not in vain 
 that we sang, Tiike unto a Tartar horde, hast thou taken 
 captive the heart.' Do you remember, PannaJ* You cannot 
 move from one place to another without someone falling in 
 love with you?" 
 
 "That is my misfortune," said Anna, with her eyes cast 
 down. 
 
 "Ah, what a Pharisee you are! What would Pan Longin 
 say?" 
 
 "Is it my fault that this Pan Kharlamp follows me? I 
 cannot bear him; I do not want to see him." 
 
 "Well, well, see to it, Panna, that he does not shed any 
 blood on your account. You can dress a wound with Pod- 
 bipyenta, but when it comes to a question of love it is dan- 
 gerous to trifle with him." 
 
 "I wish he would cut off his ears, I would be glad of it." 
 
 As she said this, she whirled round like a top and in a 
 moment was on the other side of the room beside Pan Car- 
 boni the prince's medical attendant, to whom she whispered 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. ^29 
 
 much and entered into a lively conversation. The Italian 
 fixed his gaze on the ceiling as if he were in perfect ecstasy. 
 
 Meanwhile Zagloba had approached Volodiyovski, and 
 winked at him roguishly with his sound eye. 
 
 "Pan Michael," he said, "who is that crested lark?" 
 
 "Panna Anna Borzobahata-Krashyenska, the lady-in-wait- 
 ing to the princess." 
 
 "And a iine creature. Eyes like saucers, little mouth like 
 a picture and a neck — ah!" 
 
 "Nothing! Nothing!" 
 
 "I congratulate you!" 
 
 "Give us peace, Sir; that is Pan Longin's fiancee; or as 
 good as his betrothed." 
 
 "Pan Longin? But by God's wounds! He has made a 
 vow of chastity, and besides even if there is this understand- 
 ing between them, he could hide her behind his coat collar; 
 she could perch upon his moustache like a fly — ^what now?" 
 
 "Yes, she will manage him; Hercules was stronger, and 
 yet a woman outwitted him." 
 
 "If only she does not play him false, but I, as true as I 
 am Zagloba, will do my best to bring that about." 
 
 "There are many others in your position, although she is 
 a good girl and comes from a good family. It is a pity be- 
 cause she is young and pretty." 
 
 "You praise her because you are a true cavalier, but she is 
 a great flirt, I am certain of it." 
 
 "Beauty attracts people; as, for example, do you see that 
 captain yonder? they say he is dreadfully in love with her." 
 
 "Pshaw! And just look at that crow she is talking to 
 now. Who the devil is he?" 
 
 "That is ' the Italian Carboni, the prince's physician." 
 
 "Watch, Pan Michael, how his gig lamps sparkle and look 
 as though they were in delirium. Ah, it is bad for Pan 
 Longin. I know something about it, for when I was younj^ 
 I had many experiences. At a suitable time, I will tell you 
 about all that I went through; but, if you care, I will tell 
 you at once." 
 
 Zagloba began to whisper into the little knight's ear and 
 to blink more furiously than ever, but just then came the 
 command to proceed on the journey. The prince got into 
 the carriage with the princess in order to converse freely after 
 their long separation. The young court ladies were in the 
 other carriages, the knights mounted their horses and all 
 
 34 
 
530 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 set out. In the van, were the court suite, the soldiers a little 
 behind them; for the country was quiet in this region, and 
 the escort was only for form not for safety. They went 
 therefore from Siennits to Minsk and from there to Warsaw, 
 making frequent stops, as was the custom at that time. The 
 highway was so packed that they advanced very slowly. 
 Everyone from far and near was hastening to the elections, 
 from far and near even from far Lithuania. Here and there 
 whole noblemen's suites met each other, whole trains of gilt 
 coaches surrounded by Hayduks dressed in Turkish manner, 
 behind whom came the court companies, Hungarian and 
 German; now divisions of Janissaries; now Cossacks, and 
 finally, the important squadrons of the inconquerable Polish 
 cavalry. Each of the more distinguished Poles endeavored 
 to appear with as much gorgeousness, display, and number 
 of followers as possible. Beside the numerous cavalcades of 
 the magnates, moved the smaller and less important district 
 and provincial dignitaries. Every now and then, from out 
 the clouds of dust, appeared a single nobleman's carriage, 
 and in each carriage sat a noblema'n, or a priest with a cru- 
 cifix or an image of the Holy Virgin on his breast, attached 
 to a silk ribbon. All were armed with a musket on one side 
 and a sword on the other, and among the active or retired 
 ofiicers, lances protruded, nearly two yards at the back of the 
 saddle. Pointers and greyhounds ran in and out among the 
 carriages, not for hunting, since it was not on a hunting -ex- 
 pedition, but for the amusement of their owners. In the rear, 
 pages led horses with costly saddles that were covered com- 
 pletely so as to protect the costly equipments from dust and 
 rain. Then came creaking wagons with wheels made of 
 woven reeds, carrying the tents and provisions for the masters 
 and servants. When the \»-ind suddenly blew the dust from 
 the highway, the procession was wrapped in a cloud and 
 looked like a hundred colored serpent, or a ribbon embroi- 
 dered in mystical figures in golden silk. Here and there the 
 joyous strains of Italian bands or of the Janissaries might be 
 heard, especially in the ranks of the royal and Lithuanian 
 regular soldiers, of which there were numbers in that throng. 
 These accompanied the procession as escort of the royal dig- 
 nitaries. Everywhere were heard cries, noise, shouts, ques- 
 tions and wranglings, because one woiild not get out of an- 
 other's way. Prom time to time soldiers and oifieers rode 
 up to the prince's train with the request that they would 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 531 
 
 make room for one or the other dignitary, or else to inquire 
 who was traveling here, hut, as soon as, they heard the answer, 
 "The Voyeyoda of Eussia," they at once announced it to 
 their masters, who then left the road clear, or if they were 
 ahead turned aside to look at the prince's train. The nobles 
 and the soldiers crowded together at the halting places, look- 
 ing with eager eyes at the greatest warrior of the Common- 
 wealth. There was no lack of cheers, for which the prince 
 gracefully expressed his thanks, partly from his natural kind- 
 liness and partly in order to win adherents for Prince Charles, 
 which were often captivated at the mere sight of him. The 
 prince's regiments, those soldiers that were called Rusinow^ 
 were also regarded with the same curiosity. They were no 
 longer jagged and worn, as after the battle of Konstantinov, 
 for the prince had bought them new uniforms in Za.most. 
 Nevertheless, the crowd gazed at them as though they were 
 monsters from beyond the sea; for the inhabitants of some 
 of the surrounding towns of the capital, thought that they 
 came from the end of the world. They told one another 
 wonderful stories about those mysterious steppes and forests, 
 in which such knights were born; admired their faces that 
 were browned by the wind from the Black Sea; their proud 
 look, and a certain savagery of appearance that distinguished 
 them from their wild neighbors. 
 
 But most of the glances, turned, after the prince, on Pan 
 Zagloba; who, as soon as he noticed the surrounding people 
 who were admiring him, looked sturdily and boldly and 
 rolled his eye so frightfully, that the crowd began to whisper 
 to one another, "He must be the most distinguished of all 
 the knights," others said, "This fierce dragon must have 
 driven many souls from their bodies." When such words 
 reached Zagloba's ears, he endeavored to conceal his inward 
 satisfaction by a still more fierce demeanor. 
 
 Now he spoke to the crowd; now he ridiculed them, and 
 especially the companies of the Lithuanian horsemen, whose 
 heavy cavalry wore a golden loop across their shoulders, while 
 the light cavalry wore a silver one. 
 
 "What is it you have on, Pan Loop," cried Zagloba, at sight 
 of them, and more than one ground their teeth and grasped 
 their swords; but when they remembered that he belonged 
 to a regiment of the Voyevoda of Russia they let it pass, spat 
 on the ground, and avoided any quarrel. 
 
 1 
 
 1 Russians. 
 
532 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Near Warsaw, the crowd became so dense that one could 
 hardly advance at all. The election of the king appeared 
 to assemble more people than usual, for tJie nobility thronged 
 hither from the farthest Eussian and Lithaninan regions; 
 not only on account of the election but also to seek safety in 
 Warsaw. And yet the election would not be for several days, 
 as the first assembly of the Diet had hardly begun; but 
 everyone went there one or two months in advance in order 
 to fold quarters in the city; to bring themselves to the re- 
 membrance of this one or the other one; to look for promotion 
 and invitations to dinner at the difEerent lord's houses; and, 
 in fact, after the harvest to enjoy the luxury of the capital. 
 The prince looked through the windows of his carriage at 
 this crowd of knights, soldiers and nobles; at this wealth; 
 at these gorgeous clothes; and thought how many soldiers 
 he could have armed with that money; what an army he could 
 have sent into the field. How did it happen that a Common- 
 wealth that was so thickly populated and so rich and full of 
 valiant knights should be so powerless that she could not 
 protect herself against a KhmyelnitsM and the wild Tar- 
 tars, why was it? He" could not understand. Khmyelnitski's 
 thousands could be answered by more thousands, if this no- 
 bility, these soldiers, these riches and abundance, these regi- 
 ments and squadrons would have served the public interests 
 as readily as they did their own private interests. '"There 
 is no more virtue in the Coanmonwealth," thought the prince, 
 "the great body is beginning to decay, the old valor has be- 
 come enervated in the delights of comfort. The nobles and 
 the soldiery no longer love the fatigues of war." The prince 
 was partially right, but he considered the situation of the 
 Commonwealth from the standpoint of a warrior and a leader 
 who would willingly have turned every man into a soldier 
 and would have led him against the enemy. Valor was still 
 to be found and came to the front, when a little later, much 
 more serious wars threatened the Commonwealth. She 
 lacked another thing that the martial prince did not foresee 
 at this moment, but that his enemy the Crown Chancellor, 
 who was a more experienced statesman than Prince Yeremy, 
 well understood. 
 
 The pointed towers of Warsaw gleamed in the gray dis- 
 tance. The Prince's reflections were interrupted and he gave 
 orders which the ofiicers on duty imparted to Volodiyovski, 
 the leader of the escort. Conseqitently, Pan Michael left his 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. g^, 
 
 place at the side of Anusia's carriage, where he had been 
 riding, in order to join his company, which was some way 
 behind and bring them up with the rest. He had not gone 
 many steps when he heard somebody coming up behind him. 
 He looked round — ^it was Pan Khaxlamp, Captain of the 
 Voyevoda of Vilna's light cavalry, Anusia's adorer. Volo- 
 diyovski reined in his horse for he understood at once that 
 he would have to meet this man; and Pan Michael loved such 
 things with his whole soul. Pan Kharlamp rode up beside 
 him and, at first, said nothing; but panted and tugged fiercely 
 at his moustache, evidently seeking for words. Finally he 
 said : 
 
 "I greet you. Pan Dragoon." 
 
 "I greet you, Pan of the Line." 
 
 "How dare you call me that?" asked Kharlamp, grinding 
 his teeth, "me, a captain, and a companion in arms, eh?" 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski began to throw into the air the little 
 axe, which he had in his hand, his whole attention apparently 
 being only directed to endeavoring to catch it by the handle 
 at every turn, and he answered indifllerently: 
 
 "Because I do not recognize your rank by your loop.' 
 
 "You insult officers with whom you are not equal." 
 
 "And why?" innocently asked the rascal Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Because you are serving in a foreign regiment." 
 
 "Calm yourself," said Pan Michael, "even if I am in the 
 dragoons, I am an officer and not one of the least, but in 
 the highest rank of the Voyevoda's service. You can there- 
 fore speak to me as your equal, or as your superior." 
 
 Pan Kharlamp began to understand that he was not deal- 
 ing with a person of no importance, as he imagined; but he 
 continued to grind his teeth, for Volodiyovski's indifEerence 
 made him still more angry. He said, therefore: 
 
 "How did you dare to get in my way?" 
 
 "Oh, I see you are anxious for a quarrel." 
 
 "Perhaps, and I will tell you one thing," here Pan Khar- 
 lamp leaned over to Volodiyovski and said in a low tone: 
 
 "I will cut your ears off if you get in my way where Panna 
 Anna is concerned." 
 
 Volodiyovski again twirled his little axe, as if his right 
 hand were accustomed to such play, and said mockingly to 
 Pan Kharlamp. 
 
 "Oh, gracious sir, permit me to live a little longer — ^permit 
 me — permit me." 
 
234 WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Xo, that will not do, you cannot escape me so easily," 
 said Pan Kharlamp seizing the little knight by the arm. 
 
 "I will try not to escape you," said Volodiyovski, gently; 
 "but, at present, I am on duty and am hurrying to execute 
 my master's orders. Let go my sleeve, sir, let it go, I beg you; 
 for otherwise there will be nothing left for me to do but to 
 — ^to cut you over the head with this axe and knock you from 
 your horse." 
 
 The voice which had commenced so gently now hissed so 
 dangerously that Pan Kharlamp involuntarily looked at the 
 little knight in astonishment and let go his sleeve. 
 
 "Oh, that makes no difference," he said, "you will have 
 to meet me in Warsaw. I will not let you out of my sight." 
 
 "I will not hide myself, but how can we settle this affair 
 in Warsaw? Have the goodness to tell me. I a simple sol- 
 dier have never yet been there, but I have heard of court 
 martials that punishes the unsheathing of a sword in the 
 presence of the king, or his representative with death." 
 
 "One can see that you have never been in Warsaw and are 
 a boor, as you fear the court; and do not know that during 
 the interregnum the chapter dispenses juatice. And in this 
 case an explanation will be easy, and for the sake of your 
 ears they would not be likely to cut o£E my head — believe 
 me." 
 
 '"I thank you for your information and beg for further 
 instructions, for I see you are not a bad instructor and are 
 also a well-informed man. And I, as a man who has only 
 studied the minor sciences and hardly know how to make an 
 adjective agree with a noun, should I venture, which may 
 Gcid forbid, to call you a fool, only wish to know if I should 
 say stultus and not stulta or stultum." 
 
 Here Pan Volodiyovski again tossed his axe. Pan Khar- 
 lamp became embarrassed, and his face flushed, and drew 
 his sword. At the same moment the little knight raised 
 forth his axe and it gleamed in the air. They looked at one 
 another for a moment like two aurochs, with distended nos- 
 trils and eyes flashing fire — but Pan Kharlamp was the first 
 to remember that he would have to answer to the Voyevoda 
 himself if he should attack any officer in his service, so he 
 was the first to sheath his sword: 
 
 "Oh, I will find you, you son. . . . "he said. 
 
 "You will find me? You will find me? You beet-broth!" 
 said the little knight. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^25 
 
 And they separated. One rode to join his cavalcade, the 
 other to his regiment ■which had advanced during this time, 
 and clouds of dust filled the air from the hoofs of the ap- 
 proaching horses. Pan Michael did not talce long to place 
 his regiment in order and to ride at their head. Presently, 
 Zagloba trotted up to him. 
 
 "What did that sea-scarecrow want with you?" he asked 
 Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Pan Kharlamp? Oh, nothing, he was only calling me 
 out." 
 
 "Now you have it," said Zagloba. "He will bore you 
 through with his nose. Look out. Pan Michael, if you fight 
 with him, that you do not cut off the largest nose in the 
 Commonwealth, for it would require an unusually large 
 grave mound? How happy is the Voyevoda of Wilna! Others 
 are obliged to send out military expeditions against the 
 enemy, but this nobleman of his can scent the enemy from 
 afar. But why does he call you out?" 
 
 "Because I rode beside Panna Anna Borzobahata's car- 
 riage." 
 
 "Pshaw! You should have told him to go to Pan Longin 
 at Zamost. He would have received him with pepper and 
 ginger; this beet-broth swiller's fortune is not so great as 
 his nose." 
 
 "I said nothing to him about Pan Podbipyenta;" said Volo- 
 diyovski, "for how could I, as long as he left me in peace? 
 Just out of obstinacy, I will make desperate love to Anusia; 
 I shall get some enjoyment out of it and what can we find 
 better to do in Warsaw?" 
 
 "We shall find 'something to do, Pan Michael, do not fear," 
 said Zagloba, winking. In my young days when I was the 
 regiment tribute collector we marched over the whole coun- 
 try; but nowhere did I find such gay life as in Warsaw." 
 
 "Do you think it is different from our life beyond the 
 Dnieper?" 
 
 "There is no comparison." 
 
 "I am quite curious," said Pan Michael, and added, after a 
 pause, "and I will nip this beet-broth siwiller's moustache, 
 fpr he wears it too long." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Several weeks had passed. Fresh nohles came crowding 
 every day to the election. In the town the population had 
 increased ten-fold; for, beside the crowd of nobles, thousands 
 of merchants and bazaar traders came thither from different 
 parts of the world, from distant Persia to the coasts of England 
 beyond the sea. In the quarter of the town called Woli they 
 had put up a wooden building for the Senate and round about 
 it, might be seen already thousands of tents which completely 
 covered the ground. Xo one knew as yet which of the two 
 candidates would be elected, the king's son Casimir, the 
 Cardinal, or Charles Ferdinand, the bishop of PlotsM. 
 
 Both parties exerted themselves to the utmost. Thousands 
 of circulars were distributed, setting forth the virtues and 
 faults of the candidates. Both sides had many and powerful 
 adherents. To Charles's party belonged, as we know. Prince 
 Yeremy; and this was all the more dangerous for the opposite 
 party that it seemed more and more probable that he would 
 carry with him the nobility, who were very devoted to him 
 and on whom everything depended; but Casimir was not lack- 
 ing in strength. The provincial governors were on his side, 
 and he had the influence of the chancellor. The Primate 
 also seemed to favor him, and behind him stoo^i the greater 
 number of the magnates, each of whom had a considerable 
 following. And, among these magnates was Prince Dom- 
 inik Zaslovski-Ostrogski, Yoyevoda of Sandomier. who, al- 
 though actually dishonored after the affair of Pilavvets and 
 even threatened with justice, was still the greatest Lord in 
 the Commonwealth; yes, even in the whole of Europe; and 
 had besides unlimited wealth to throw into the balance for 
 his candidate. 
 
 Xevertheless, Casimir's adherents had many moments of 
 bitter doubt; for, as we have said, everything finally depended 
 on the nobility, who, from the fpiirth of October, had begun 
 to pour into Warsaw and were still coming in by thousands 
 from all parts of the Commonwealth; and carried away by 
 
 536 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. j^- 
 
 the greatness of Vishnyovyetski and' the prince's interested 
 generosity, declared one and all for Prince Charles. Charles 
 was able and hospitable and did not fail on this occasion, to 
 give considerable sums towards forming fresh regiments, 
 which were to be placed under Vishnyovyetski's command. 
 Casimir would willingly have followed his example and it 
 was not stinginess, but on the contrary, a too great open- 
 handedness which had caused continual depletion of his treas- 
 ury that now prevented him from giving. During this time, 
 active consultations were going on between the two parties. 
 Messengers were sent daily between Kyeporenta and Yab- 
 lonna. Casimir, on account of his seniority and in con- 
 sideration of brotherly love conjured Prince Charles to with- 
 draw and leave the field clear for him, but the bishop would 
 not listen to this request, and wrote that it „ras not right to 
 turn away any fortune that might come to him, especially 
 as this fortune was in accordance with the suffrage of the 
 whole Comonwealtli which had nominated him for its ruler. 
 And meanwhile the time passed, the six weeks interval was 
 coming to a close and, with it, the terror of the Cossacks; for 
 news had arrived that Khmyelnitski had raised the siege of 
 Lemburg, after storming it several times, and that he was 
 now before Zamost, the last rampart of the Commonwealth, 
 which he was storming day and night. 
 
 It was also said that besides the ambassador whom Khmy- 
 elnitski had sent with a letter, and an announcement that, 
 as a Polish nobleman, he declared in favor of Prince Casimir, 
 he had sent to Warsaw a whole swarm of disguised Cossack 
 captains who had sneaked into the ranks of the nobility with- 
 out being recognized. They were dressed like the true no- 
 bility, and could not be distinguished from them even in 
 their speech; and were especially like the nobility from the 
 Eussian district. Some had gone there, it was said, out of 
 pure curiosity; in order to see the election festivities and to 
 see Warsaw; .others had gone to find out what was said about 
 the coming war; how many soldiers the Commonwealth could 
 put in the field and what money she had to spend on it. 
 Much that was told about these guests might be true; for, 
 among the Zaporojian captains there were many noblemen 
 who lived in the Cossack fashion and also understood Latin, 
 which made it all the more difficult to recognize them. In 
 the farther steppes, Latin did not flourish and people even 
 like the princess Kurtsevieh did not understand it, as well 
 as Bohun and other atamans. 
 
538 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 These and similar uiaors which had circulated in the town, 
 as well as in the election camp, combined with the news of 
 Khmyelnitski's approach and the expeditions of the Cossacks 
 and Tartars who were advancing to the Yistiila, filled men's 
 hearts with fear and unrest, and often gave rise to tumults. 
 It was quite enough among the assembled nobility to suspect 
 anyone of being a Zaporojian in disguise and, m a moment, 
 before he could justify himself, he was cut to pieces by their 
 swords. In this manner, several innocent men came to their 
 death and the dignity and earnestness of the election suf- 
 fered in consequence; especially as, in those times, drunken- 
 ness was not looked upon with much disfavor. The Chapter 
 for the security of the place could not restrain the continual 
 disputes which at the first opportunity turned into a fight. 
 But if earnest men who were filled with love of good and of 
 peace lamented these tumults in the face of the danger which 
 threatened their country, the frivolous, the fighters and the 
 drunkards, the dice throwers and ruf&ans who were in their 
 element, considered this time as their period of harvest and 
 committed all sorts of misdemeanors with the greatest au- 
 dacity. 
 
 It is not necessary to say that Pan Zagloba was their 
 leader, as one might have supposed from his distinguished 
 position, as well as his insatiable thirst for drink, and his 
 fluent tongue, which was equalled by none, and his absolute 
 self-confidence which nothing could shake. At times he was 
 even attacked by melancholy and then he shut himself up 
 in his room or in the tent, saw no one; and, when he came 
 out, he was in a horrible temper and ready for serious quar- 
 rels and fighting. It transpired that, in a similar humor, he 
 had wounded Pan Dunchevski of Eavianina severely; for no 
 other reason than, that in passing by, he had pushed against 
 Zagloba's sword: At such times, he could endure the com- 
 pany of no one but Pan Michael, to whom he then com- 
 plained that a longing to see Skshetuski and the 'poor girl" 
 was consuming him. "We have forsaken them. Pan Mi- 
 chael,"" he would say, 'like traitors we have given them over 
 into ungodly hands and you cannot excuse yourself with your 
 nemine excepto! What do you suppose is happening to her. 
 Pan Michael?"' 
 
 It was in vain that Pan ilichael told him that if the cat- 
 astrophe at Pilavyets had not overtaken them they would 
 have sought the "poor girl;"' but that now it was impossible, 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^39 
 
 as the whole might of Khmyelnitski's forces separated her 
 from them. The nobleman however would not be comforted, 
 but became more furious; and even swore that the world now 
 consisted only of feather quilts, childishness and Latinity. 
 
 These attacks of sadness, however, only lasted a short time; 
 and, after they were over, Zagloba drank and caroused more 
 than ever, as though to malce up for lost time. He passed 
 most of his time in the wine shops, in the company of the 
 greatest sots or women of the town, and Pan Michael was his 
 faithful companion. 
 
 Pan Michael, an excellent soldier and officer, had not the 
 slightest degree of that earnestness which misfortune and 
 sorrow had developed in Skshetuski. He fulfilled his duties 
 to the Commonwealth, in striking wherever he was told, and 
 did not bother himself about anything else. He did not un- 
 derstand public affairs. He grieved over a mischance of war, 
 but it did not occur to him that these tumults and brawls 
 were just as injurious to the country as a defeat in battle. 
 In one word, he was a flighty youngster and, having once 
 been swallowed up in the whirlpool of the capital, was sub- 
 merged to his ears and hung like a chain round Zagloba who 
 was his master in deviltry. He rode about, therefore, with 
 the other nobles, to whom Zagloba told the most incredible 
 things over the wine, gained adherents for Prince Charles, 
 drank with Zagloba, screened him in emel'gencies, and went 
 everywhere with him, to the electioneering camp and about 
 the town together like flies in boiling water, there was no 
 corner they did not penetrate. They were seen in Nyepor- 
 enta in Yablonna and at all the dinners and suppers at the 
 houses of the magnates and in the inns; in fact everywhere, 
 and they enjoyed everything. Pan Michael's young palm 
 itched to make itself felt and to prove that the Ukranian 
 nobles were better than any other; and that the Prince's sol- 
 diers are above all others. So they rode off to look for ad- 
 venture among the Lenehytsans who were the best swords- 
 men, and especially among the partisans of Prince Dominik 
 Zaslavski whom they both hated above all. They entered 
 into disputes only with the most desperate ruffians whose 
 reputation was well-known and could not be doubted, and 
 at once began to seek a quarrel. 
 
 "You, sir, seek a quarrel," said Pan Michael to Zagloba, 
 "and then I will take it up." Zagloba who was not to be 
 beaten in a war of words, and who in single fight with a 
 
540 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 brother nobleman was no coward, did not always agree to 
 playing second fiddle, especially in disputes with the Zas- 
 lavskis; but, when it was a question of fighting with any 
 Lenchytsans, he halted; and, even if the other man had drawn 
 his sword, Zagloba would say: "My good sir, I should have 
 no conscience if I were to expose you to an inevitable death 
 by fighting with you. Perhaps you had better try with my 
 little son and pupil, but I do not know if you will fare any 
 better with him." After this speech Volodiyovski would 
 come to the front, with his pointed little moustache twirling 
 upwards, his pug nose, and a stupid expression on his face; 
 and, whether his substitution was accepted or not, he would 
 intervene as he really was a master above all masters began 
 at once to fight and usually laid his opponent low, after a 
 few rounds. They both, therefore, sought such entertain- 
 ment. Their fame continued to increase among the restless 
 spirits of the nobility; especially Zagloba's fame, for they 
 said, "if that is his pupil, what must the master be." But 
 it was a long time before Volodiyovski could find Pan Khar- 
 lamp — ^he even thought that he had been sent back to Lithu- 
 ania on some business. 
 
 Six weeks had elapsed, during which time public affairs had 
 made a great advance. The struggle between the two candi- 
 dates, and brothers, the exertions of their adherents, the 
 violence and excitement of the partisans, had all pretty nearly 
 passed from remembrance. It was already known to all that 
 Yan Casimir would be elected, for Charles had withdrawn 
 and left the field clear for his brother. It seemed strange 
 that Khmyelnitski's voice should be heard and that it shotdd 
 have any weight. 
 
 It was thought that he would bow to the majesty of the 
 king, especially such a king; one who had been chosen ac- 
 cording to his wishes. These surmises for the most part were 
 verified by the event. This turn of the wheel of fate was a 
 heavy blow to Vishnyovyetski who, like Cato of olden times, 
 had never ceased to advise the destruction of this Zaporojian 
 Carthage. Xow, under these circumstances, the only step 
 to take was that of negotiation. The prince saw, indeed, that 
 these negotiations would result in nothing or, in a short 
 time, would be brought to nothing by the force of circum- 
 stances. And he saw nothing but war in the future and was 
 filled with anxiety at the thought of whither this war would 
 lead. After the conclusion of these negotiations, Khmyel- 
 
WITB FIRE AND 8W0BD. j. j 
 
 nitski would become stronger and the Commonwealth weaker. 
 And who would then venture to lead their forces against sUch 
 a celebrated leader as Khmyelnitski? Would not new defeats 
 new misfortunes come to pass, which would exhaust their 
 resources to the uttermost? For the prince did not deceive 
 himself. He knew, that he, the most dreaded of Prince 
 Charles' adherents, would not receive the chief command. 
 It was true that Prince Casimir had promised his brother that 
 he would honor his adherents as he did his own, for he had 
 a noble soul. But Casimir sided with the political party of 
 the chancellor, consequently, another would obtain the baton, 
 not he. Woe to the Commonwealth, however, if this one should 
 not be a more experienced leader than Khmyelnitski. A two- 
 fold sorrow filled the soul of Prince Yeremy — anxiety about 
 the future of the mother-country and that indescribable feel- 
 ing that takes possession of a man who sees that his services 
 are not valued; that he does not obtain justice, and that 
 others are allowed to supplant him. Yeremy would not have 
 been a Vishnyovyetski if he had not been haughty. He felt 
 in himself the power to wield the baton and he had deserved 
 it; consequently he suffered a two-fold disappointment. 
 
 It was said even among the officers that the prince would 
 not wait for the end of the election, but would leave Warsaw; 
 but that was not true — ^the prince not only did not leave, but 
 even went to Nyeporents to see Prince Casimir, by whom he 
 was received most graciously; and, after a long audience, re- 
 turned to the town, because military affairs demanded his 
 presence. It was a question of the transport of provisions 
 to the soldiers, which the prince had earnestly urged; besides 
 this, new regiments, dragoons and infantry, had to be formed 
 at Prince Charles' expense. The first were to be sent at once 
 to Eussia, the others were to be trained. For this purpose, 
 Yeremy sent, in all directions, officers who were experienced 
 in the organization of troops, in order to bring those regi- 
 ments and squadrons into the desired condition. Kushel 
 and Vyershul were also sent out, and, at last, it came to Volo- 
 diyovski's turn. 
 
 He was summoned one day before the prince who gave him 
 the following orders: 
 
 "You are to go to Zaborova by way of Babits and Lipki, 
 where horses intended for the regiment are waiting. Look 
 them over and make your selection and pay Pan Tshakovski, 
 and then bring them home for the soldiers. You can draw 
 
5^2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 the money here in Warsaw on my account from the pay- 
 master." 
 
 Volodiyovski lost no time in setting to work, drew the 
 money and, that very day, rode o£E with Zagloba to Zaborova, 
 accompanied by ten men and a wagon to convey the mOney. 
 They rode slowly, for the whole region this side of Warsaw 
 was swarming with noblemen, servants, wagons and horses. 
 Every hamlet was so crowded on the road to Babits that 
 every cabin was filled with guests. One might easily meet 
 with an accident among this crowd of men of the most varied 
 dispositions; and the two friends, in spite of their polite be- 
 havior, did not escape some adventure. When they reached 
 Babits they noticed, outside the inn, several noblemen who 
 were just mounting their horses in order to ride away. Both 
 parties were just about to pass each other with a friendly 
 salute when suddenly, one of the riders spied Pan Michael 
 and, without saying a word, sprang towards him on horseback. 
 
 "So here you are, little brother," he cried, "you hid your- 
 self, but I have found you. You will not escape me. Hey, 
 gentlemen," to his comrades, "wait a little; I have some- 
 thing to say to this Httle officer and would like you to hear 
 my words." 
 
 Volodiyovski smiled, for he had recognized Kharlamp. 
 
 "God is my witness, I did not hide myself," he said, "I was 
 looking for you, myself, to see if you were still cherishing 
 your hatred against me, but we could not find each other." 
 
 "Pan Michael," whispered Zagloba, "you are under orders." 
 
 "I remember!" growled Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Stand forth!" shouted Kharlamp. "Gentlemen, I prom- 
 ised this youth, this beardless boy, that I would cut off his 
 ears, and I will cut -them off, as sure as my name is Khar- 
 lamp. Yes, Kharlamp! Be witnesses, gentlemen; and you, 
 youngster, prepare to fight!" 
 
 "I must not, as I love God! I must not; allow me a few 
 days time." 
 
 "'Wliat? Cant! Coward! You are afraid! If you do not 
 stand up on the instant, I will thrash you so that you will 
 call on your grandmother and grandfather. Oh, you gad-fly, 
 you poisonous insect, you can get in a man's road and insult 
 him and sting him with your tongue; but, when it comes to a 
 duel, you are not to be found." 
 
 Here Zagloba intervened: 
 
 "It seems to me, gentlemen, that you are dodging the ques- 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. ^^3 
 
 tion," he said to Kharlamp. "Look out that this gad-fly does 
 not really sting you; for, then, no plaster will help you. Fie! 
 To the Devil! ■ Do you not see that this of&cer is under 
 orders. Look at this wagon full of gold, which we are taking 
 to the regiment, and understand, that he is guarding a treas- 
 ure, and that you dare not injure his person, dare not touch 
 him. Whoever cannot understand that, must be a fool and 
 no soldier. We are in the service of the Voyevoda of Russia 
 and we don't fight with such fellows, to-day it cannot be. 
 Delayed does not mean run away." 
 
 "That is really the case, if th6y are travelling with money; 
 they dare not," said one of Khailamp's companions. 
 
 "WTiat do I care for their money?" screamed the furious 
 Kharlamp. "Let him stand forth or I will thrash him." 
 
 "I will not fight to-day; but, on the word of a knight," said 
 Pan Michael, "I will meet you in three or four days, wherever 
 you wish, as soon as my duties are at an end. And if you, 
 gentlemen, are not satisfied with this promise, I will give the 
 order to fire on you; for I shall believe that I am not dealing 
 with noblemen — not even with Soldiers, but with bandits. 
 Choose, therefore, by all the devils; for I have no time to 
 stand here!" 
 
 At Volodiyovski's last words, the escort of dragoons at once 
 aimed their muskets at the assailants; and this movement, 
 together with the decided words of Pan Michael, made an 
 evident impression upon Pan Kharlamp's comrades. 
 
 "Give in," they said to him, "you are a soldier yourself and 
 know what duty means, and it is certain that you will get sat- 
 isfaction: for this is a bold fellow like all the men of the Rus- 
 sian companies. Calm yourself, we beg you." 
 
 Pan Kharlamp fumed for a few moments longer and, then, 
 he noticed that he should either make his comrades angry, or 
 force them into an unequal fight with the dragoons, so he 
 turned to Volodiyovski and said: 
 
 "Promise me that you will meet me?" 
 
 "I will look for you myself, if for no other reason, than be- 
 cause you have twice demanded it. In four days, I shall be 
 ready for you. This is Wednesday — let it be Saturday after- 
 noon at two o'clock. Choose the spot." 
 
 "There are too many people in Babits," said Kharlamp. 
 "There might be some unpleasantness. Let us meet here, 
 near Lipki, for it is quieter and nearer for me, for my quar- 
 ters are in Babits." 
 
544 '^ITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "And will you gentlemen appear in lull force?" said Zag- 
 loba, the careful. 
 
 "Oh, that is unnecessary," said Kharlamp, "I will bring my 
 two relations. Pans Syelitski. You, sir, will also appear with- 
 out your dragoons?" 
 
 "It may be the custom with you to ride to a duel with a 
 military escort," said Pan Michael. "With us it is not usual." 
 
 "Well, then, in four days, on Saturday in LipM, near the 
 inn. And now, God be with us!" said Kharlamp. 
 
 "God be with us," answered Volodiyovski and Zagloba. 
 
 The adversaries parted peacefully. Pan Michael was 
 pleased at the idea of this approaching pastime and promised 
 himself that he would take Kharlamp's moustache, after cut- 
 ting it ofE, as a present to Longin. They rode at a fair speed 
 to Zaborona, where they found Prince Casimir, who had come 
 here for the hunting. But Pan Michael only saw his future 
 king at a distance, for he was in a hurry. In two days he had 
 finished his affairs, chosen the horses and, having paid Pan 
 Tshakovski for them, returned to Warsaw and finished his 
 journey by going to Lipki, for the duel, accompanied by Zag- 
 loba and Pan Kushel, whom he had invited to be* his seconds. 
 
 They arrived in good time, a full hour before the event was 
 to come off. When they reached the inn, which was kept by 
 a Jew, they stepped inside to wet their throats with a little 
 mead and converse over the glasses as they drank. 
 
 "Scab, is the landlord at home?" asked Zagloba of the inn- 
 keeper. 
 
 "The master is in the town." 
 
 "And are there many noblemen here in Lipki?" 
 
 "No, the place is almost empty. I have only one gentle- 
 man here. He is sitting in the parlor; a rich man with ser- 
 vants and horses." 
 
 "Why did he not go to the castle?" 
 
 "Probably he does not know our Lord. Besides, the castle 
 has been closed for a month." 
 
 "Perhaps it is Kharlamp," said Zagloba. 
 
 "No," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "But, Pan Michael, it seems to me that it is." 
 
 "What now?" 
 
 "I am going to see who it is. Jew, has the gentleman been 
 here long?" 
 
 "He only arrived to-day. He has not been here qijite two 
 hours." 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. g^j 
 
 "And do you not know where he comes from?" 
 
 "I do not know, but it must be from a long distance, for 
 his liorses are very tired. The men say from the other side of 
 the Vistula." 
 
 "Why did he come to Lipki?" 
 
 "Who can tell?" 
 
 "I will see about it," repeated Zagloba, "perhaps it is a 
 friend, an acquaintance." 
 
 And approaching the closed door of the parlor, he knocked 
 with his fist and asked: 
 
 "May I come in, sir?" 
 
 "Who is there?" cried a voice from within. 
 
 "A friend," said Zagloba, opening the door. "Pardon, sir, 
 perhaps I am disturbing you?" he added, sticking his head 
 into the room. 
 
 Suddenly, he drew back, slammed the door as if he seen 
 death. On his face was depicted horror, mingled with utter 
 astonishment and, with his mouth open, he looked in bewil- 
 derment at Volodiyovski and Kushel. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 "By Jesus' wounds, keep still!" said Zagloba. "Yonder! . . . 
 Bohun!" 
 
 "Who? What happened to you?" 
 
 "In there— Bohun!" 
 
 Both officers sprang to their feet. 
 
 "Have you lost your senses? Think, again, who is it?" 
 
 "Bohun! Bohun!" 
 
 "It is not possible." 
 
 "As true as I live! As true as I stand before you! I swear 
 by God and all the saints!" 
 
 "Why are you so frightened," said Volodiyovski. "If he is 
 there, God has given him into our hands. Calm yourself! 
 Are you quite certain it is he?" 
 
 "As true as I am speaking. I saw him. He is dressing 
 himself." 
 
 "And did he see you?" 
 
 "I do not know. I think not." 
 
 Volodiyovsld's eyes flashed like live coals. 
 
 "Jew," he cried softly, waving his hand furiously, "come 
 here. Does a second door lead into that room." 
 
 "ITo, only the one into this room." 
 
 "Kushel, go to the window," whispered Pan Michael. "Oh, 
 now he will not escape us again." 
 
 35 
 
546 
 
 WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Kushel without saying a word hurried out of the room. 
 
 "Come to your senses," said Volodiyovski. "The sword 
 does not hang over your neck, but over ours. What can he do 
 to you? Nothing!" 
 
 "I simply cannot recover from my astonishment," answered 
 Zagloba, and thought to himself, "It is true; why should I 
 fear? Pan Michael is with me, let Bohun be afraid." 
 
 And, assumiug a fierce look, he grasped the hUt of his 
 sword. 
 
 "Pan Michael, he cannot escape us again!" 
 
 "I wonder if it is reaUy he. I can hardly believe it. What 
 could he be doing here?" 
 
 "Khmy^elnitski has sent him out as a spy; that is certain. 
 We will catch him and give him his choice; either he must 
 give up the princess, or we wiU threaten to hand him over to 
 justice." 
 
 "If he would only give up the princess, devil take him!" 
 
 "Pshaw! But are there not too few of us. We two, and 
 Kushel, the third. He will defend himself like mad and, es- 
 pecially, as he has some attendants with him." 
 
 Kharlamp will come with two men; then we shall be six, 
 more than enough." 
 
 At this moment, the door opened and Bohun stepped into 
 the room. 
 
 He evidently had not seen Zagloba looking in at the door; 
 for, at sight of him, he started, his face became crimson and 
 his hand flew like lightning to the hilt of his sword; — ^but it 
 was the work of a moment; the glow faded out of his face 
 and he became paler than usual. Zagloba looked at him and 
 said nothing. The ataman also stood in silence. One could 
 have heard the wings of a fly in the room. And these two 
 men, whose fate was so strangely interwoven, acted at this 
 moment as if they did not know each other. 
 
 They stood thus for some moments. To Pan Michael, it 
 seemed an eternity. 
 
 "Jew," said Bohun, suddenly, "is it far from here to Zabor- 
 ova?" 
 
 "No, it is not far," answered the Jew. 'Is your lordship 
 going to set out at once?" 
 
 "I am," said Bohun, putting his foot on the step which 
 separated his room from the inn parlor. 
 
 "With your permission," exclaimed Zagloba. 
 
 The chieftain stood, as if rooted to the spot; and, turntrig 
 to Zagloba, fixed his black, dreadful eyes on him: 
 
WITH FIRE ASD HWOIW. ^^^ 
 
 "What do you wish?" he asked curtly. 
 
 "Why, it seems to me that we have met somewhere? Did 
 we not see each other at tliat wedding at the farm in Russia?" 
 
 "We did," said the chieftain proudly, placing his hand 
 again on the hilt of his sword. 
 
 "How is your health?" asked Zagloba, "for you rode away 
 so hastily from the house that day that I did not even have 
 time to take leave of you." 
 
 "And you were sorry?" 
 
 "Certainly, I was sorry. We would have had a little dance. 
 The company had become more numerous." Here, Zagloba 
 pointed to Volodiyovski. "This cavalier had just arrived and 
 wanted to make your acquaintance." 
 
 "Enough of this!" cried Pan Michael, si-ddenly springing 
 forward. "Traitor, I arrest you!" 
 
 "An^, by what right?" asked the ataman, raising his head 
 proudly. 
 
 "Because you are a rebel, an enemy of the Commonwealth, 
 and have come hither as a spy." 
 
 "And who the devil are you?" 
 
 "Oh, I do not need to introduce myself; but you will not 
 escape me." 
 
 "We shall see," said Bohun. "I would not hesitate to tell 
 you who I am, sir, if you were to call me out with swords, like 
 a soldier; but as you threaten me with arrest, so let it be. See 
 here, is a letter that I am bringing from the Hetman of the 
 Zaporojians to Prince Casimir; and, as I did not find him in 
 Nyeporenta, I am travelling to Zaporova to see him. How is 
 that? Will you arrest me now?" 
 
 Then Bohun looked proudly and disdainfully at Volodi- 
 yovski, and Pan Michael looked as embarrassed as a boar- 
 hound whose prey is about to escape. He knew not what to 
 do and turned his questioning glance on Zagloba. For a 
 moment, there was a deep silence. 
 
 "Ah!" said Zagloba, "that will not help you. As you are 
 an ambassador we dare not arrest you; but you dare not meet 
 this cavalier with your sword, for you fled before him once 
 and the earth fairly groaned." 
 
 Bohun's face became purple, for now he recognized Volodi- 
 yovski. Shame and wounded pride overcame the fearless war- 
 rior; the remembrance of that fight burned like fire. It was 
 the one indelible stain on his soldier's honor, which he prized 
 more than his life; more than anything else. 
 
548 WITH FIRE AyD SWORU 
 
 And the merciless Zagloba continued in a cold blooded 
 manner. 
 
 "Your trousers were flapping, and this cavalier took pity 
 on you and gave you your life. Fie! Pan warrior; you have a 
 woman's face, but also a woman's heart. You were cour- 
 ageous enough in presence of the old princess, and the boy 
 princes, but before a knight you play a different tune. Car- 
 rying letters, kidnapping girls, that is your business; but not 
 making war. As true as I love God, with my omi eyes, I saw 
 your trousers flapping. Fie! Fie! and, even now, you speak 
 about the sword, when you are carrying a letter. How can 
 one fight with you when you hide yourself behind a letter? 
 Sand in one's eyes, sand in one's eyes! Fie! Sir Cossack. 
 Khniyelnitski is a good soldier, Kshyvonos is good, but there 
 are many cowards among the Cossacks." 
 
 Bohun suddenly sprang forward on Zagloba, who sprang 
 just as quickly behind Yolodiyovski, so that the two young 
 knights stood face to face. 
 
 "I did not flee from you out of fear, but in order to save 
 my soldiers." said Bohun. 
 
 "I do not know why you fled, I only know that you did run 
 away," said Pan Michael. 
 
 "I am ready to call )'ou out, even this very moment." 
 
 "Do you call me out?" A^olodiyovski asked, his eyes twink- 
 ling. 
 
 "You have robbed me of my soldier's honor, you have in- 
 sulted me, I must have your blood!"' 
 
 "Good," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Volente non fit injuria." (If they are willing there is no 
 harm), said Zagloba. "But who will take the letter to the 
 prince?" 
 
 "Do not let your head ache on that account; that is mr 
 affair." 
 
 "Fight away, then, if it cannot be helped," said Zagloba. 
 "If you. Chieftain, have luck with this cavalier, remember, I 
 come in as second. And now. Pan Michael, come into the 
 hall, I have something of importance to say to you." 
 
 The two friends went out, calling Kushel from the window 
 of the parlor; and Zagloba said: 
 
 "Gentlemen, we are in a bad way; he has really a letter to 
 the prince. If we kill him, it is a criminal offence. Think 
 of it! The Chapter, propter securitatem loci, exercises jus- 
 tice within a circuit of two miles — and this man is as good as 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^.g 
 
 an ambassador. A hard case; we shall be obliged to hide our- 
 selves afterwards or, possibly, the Prince might shelter us; 
 otherwise it might go hard with us. But, again, if we let him 
 go free it is still worse. It is our only opportunity to free our 
 poor girl. God evidently wishes to help her and Skshetuski — 
 what shall we do? Let us consider, gentlemen." 
 
 "You will certainly find a means/' said Kushel. 
 
 "I have brought it as far as this, that he has called us out, 
 himself;, but we need witnesses, strangers. My idea is, that 
 we should wait for Ivharlamp. I will take it upon myself to 
 relinquish his right to come first; and, if necessary, to bear 
 witness that we were challenged and had to defend ourselves. 
 We must also find out particularly from Bohun where he has 
 hidden the girl. If he should die, she would be of no use to 
 him. Perhaps he will tell us, if we conjure him; and, if he 
 will not tell us, it is better that he should not live. We must 
 move carefully and with consideration. My head is bursting, 
 sirs. 
 
 "Who will fight with him?" asked Kushel. 
 
 "Pan Michael first; then I," said Zagloba. 
 
 "And I will be the third." 
 
 "That must not be," interrupted Pan Michael. "I, alone, 
 will fight him. If he cuts me down, that is his luck. Let him 
 go off safe and sound." 
 
 "Oh! I told him I would," said Zagloba. "But if you are 
 determined, gentlemen, I will give it up." 
 
 "Well, that is his own affair; if he wishes to fight you and 
 no one else. Shall we go to him?" 
 
 "Let us go." 
 
 They entered the room and found Bohun in the parlor 
 drinking mead. The chieftain was perfectly calm. 
 
 "Listen, sir," said Zagloba, "for we wish to talk to you on 
 important matters. You called out this cavalier — that is all 
 right; but you must know that, as you come as an ambassador, 
 the law protects you, for you are among civilized people, and 
 not among wild beasts. We cannot challenge you, but we 
 ask you to acknowledge, before witnesses, that you challenged 
 us of your own free will. Several noblemen are coming here, 
 with whom we are to fight. You must explain this all to 
 them. We, however, will give you our word, as knights, that, 
 if fortune favors you in your encounter with Volodiyovski, 
 you may go free and no one will hinder you; unless you wish 
 to try your luck with me." 
 
550 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Good," said Bohun, "I will explain it to the gentlemen, 
 and will tell my servants that they shall deliver the letter and 
 tell Khmyelnitski, if I fall, that I, myself, gave the chal- 
 lenge. And, if God gives me luck in recovering my lost honor 
 with this knight, I will then request you to draw your sword." 
 As he said this he looked into Zagloba's eyes, which much 
 embarrassed the nobleman, who coughed and spat on the floor 
 and answered: 
 
 "Good, when you have tried your luck with my pupil, you 
 will know what task lies before you. But, that is a secondary 
 matter. There is another, more important point, with regard 
 to which we will appeal to your conscience; for, although you 
 are a Cossack, we wish to treat you as a knight. You have 
 kidnapped princess Helena Kurtsevich, the betrothed of our 
 companion in arms and our friend, and are hiding her away. 
 Xow, if we should call you out on that account it would 
 matter not that Khmyelnitski had made you an ambassador; 
 for this is abduction, a capital offence, which would be very 
 soon dealt with. But, as you are going to fight and may prob- 
 ably be killed, consider what would happen to this poor girl, 
 if you should fall. Do you, who love her so much, desire her 
 shame and imhappiness? Must she be deprived of protec- 
 tion, be given over to shame and misfortune? Do you wish, 
 even after your death, to be an executioner?" 
 
 Here, Zagloba's voice became unusually serious. Bohun 
 grew pale, and said: 
 
 "What do you want me to do?" 
 
 "Tell us where she is imprisoned, so that, in case of your 
 death, we may find her and take her back to her betrothed. 
 God will have mercy on your soul if you will do this." 
 
 The chieftain buried his face in his hands and became ab- 
 sorbed in thought. The three friends noted carefully each 
 change in that mobile countenance, which had suddenly as- 
 sumed an expression of such deep sadness that one might 
 have thought that anger, fury, or any other cruel feeling had 
 never been reflected there, but that this man had been cre- 
 ated only for love and tenderness. The silence lasted some 
 time, until Zagloba's voice broke it, saying: 
 
 "But, if you have already wronged her, may God damn 
 you; and may she, at least, find refuge in a convent." . . 
 
 Bohun raised his sad, moist eyes and said: 
 
 "If I have wronged her! See here! I do not know how 
 you gentlemen of the nobility, you knights and cavaliers love; 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWOBD. 551 
 
 but I am a Cossack. I preserved her from death and shame 
 in Bar, and then took her into the wilds and watched her as 
 the eye of my head. I have not touched a hair of her head, 
 but have fallen at her feet and bowed -my forehead to the 
 ground before her, as before an image. She told me to go 
 away — I went, and have not seen her since, for my mother, 
 war, has kept me a prisoner." 
 
 "God will reward you for that at the last day," said Zag- 
 loba, sighing deeply. "But, is she perfectly safe there, Kshy- 
 vonos and the Tartars are there."- 
 
 "Kshyvonos is encamped near Kamenets and sent me to 
 Khmyelnitski to ask if he should go to Kudak. He has prob- 
 ably gone, — and where she is, there are neither Cossacks, 
 Poles nor Tartars — she is safe there." 
 
 "Where is she then?" 
 
 "Listen, gentlemen, Poles! Let it be as you say. I will 
 tell you where she is and will allow her to be given up to 
 you; but, in return for this, give me your word as knights that, 
 if God helps me, you will not look for her. Promise me this 
 on vour own account, as well as for Skshetuski, and then I 
 wilf tell you." 
 
 The three friends looked at one another. 
 
 "We cannot do that," said Zagloba. 
 
 "No, by our soul, we cannot," cried Kushel and Volodi- 
 yovski. 
 
 "Indeed!" said Bohun, knitting his brows and his eyes 
 flashing. "Why can you not do that, gentlemen?" 
 
 "Because Skshetuski is not here. Besides, you must know 
 that no one of us will cease to search for her, even though 
 you have buried her beneath the ground." 
 
 "This, then, is the kind of way you wish. to deal with me: 
 'Thou, Cossack, give thy soul and we will pay thee for it with 
 the sword!'' Oh, you cannot do that! Do you think, perhaps, 
 that my sword is not made of steel, that you can already croak 
 over me like crows over carrion? Must it be I that fall, and 
 not you? You demand my blood, I seek yours; we will see 
 who has the most luck." 
 
 "Then, you will not tell us?" 
 
 "What should I say more — death and destruction to you 
 all." 
 
 "Death and destruction to you yourself! You deserve to be 
 cut to pieces." 
 
 "Try it! said the chieftain, suddenly rising to his feet 
 
552 
 
 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Kushel and Volodiyovski also sprang to their feet; threat- 
 ening glances were exchanged; the angry breasts heaved more 
 quickly; and who knows what would have happened, if Zag- 
 loha, who was looking out of the window, had not called out: 
 
 "Kharlamp is coming, with his seconds." 
 
 "In a few moments, the light-cavalry captain, with two 
 companions. Pans Syelitski stepped into the room. After the 
 first greeting, Zagloba took him aside and began to explain 
 the matter to them. And he was so plausible that he per- 
 suaded them to wait, especially by assuring them that Pan 
 Volodiyovski requested only a short delay and would be 
 ready as soon as he should have finished with the Cossack. 
 And, then. Pan Zagloba explained the terrible hatred that all 
 the prince's soldiers had long cherished for Bohun, that he 
 was an enemy of the whole Commonwealth, and one of the 
 most dreaded rebels; and last, but not least, that he had 
 stolen the princess, a young lady belonging to a noble house 
 and the betrothed of a nobleman who was a model of knightly 
 virtue. 
 
 "And as you, sirs, belong to the nobility and count your- 
 selves among the brotherhood of conapanions in arms, the 
 insult should be felt by all of us, as any injury to one is felt 
 by the whole brotherhood. Would you sutler it that she 
 shoxdd go unavenged?" 
 
 Pan Kiarlamp demurred at first and said that if this was 
 the case it was fitting that they should fight Bohun on the 
 spot. "And Pan Volodiyovski, as previously arranged, can 
 meet me." 
 
 Zagloba had to explain to him why this could not be and 
 that it was not knightly for so many to attack one man. For- 
 tunately the two Pans Syelitski agreed with him, as they were 
 both steady, sensible men; and at length the obstinate Lith- 
 uanian let himself be persuaded and agreed to delay. 
 
 During this time, Bohun had gone to his men and had re- 
 turned with Sergeant Elyashenka. He told him that he had 
 challenged two noblemen to a duel, which he repeated aloud 
 in presence of Kharlamp and the two Syelitskis. 
 
 "But we wish to say," said Pan Volodiyovski, "that if you 
 are the victor it will depend on yourself whether you fight 
 with Pan Zagloba; on no account shall one of the others chal- 
 lenge you. You shall also not be attacked by this crowd of 
 men, but may go away, whither you will — on our word as 
 knights. And I beg you, gentlemen, who have just arrived, 
 to make the same promise on your part." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 553 
 
 "We promise!" said Kharlamp and the two Syelitskis, sol- 
 emnly. 
 
 Bohun now handed Khmyclnitski's letter to the prince to 
 Elyashenka and said: 
 
 "Give this writing to the Crown Prince and, if I die, tell 
 him and Khmyelnitski that it was my own fault and that I 
 was not killed by traitors." 
 
 Zagloba, who was observing everything, remarked that Ely- 
 ashenka's earnest face betrayed not the slightest uneasiness- 
 one saw that he had perfect confidence in his ataman's skill. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bohun, turning proudly to the noblemen, said: 
 
 "Well, who is to die and who is to live? Let us go." 
 
 "It is time, it is time," they all said, tucking their coats 
 into their belts, and carrying their swords under their arms. 
 
 They went 'out of the inn and towards the river which 
 flowed between thickets of bramble, wild-roses, flags, and 
 young pine trees. 
 
 October liad scattered the leaves but the bushes grew so 
 closely that they extended like a gray veil across the desert 
 prairie, far away to the forests. The day was cloudy, but 
 there was that peculiar mixture of sadness and cheerfulness 
 which is seen only in the beauty of an Autumn day. The 
 sun tinged with gold the branches of the trees and lighted up 
 the yellow sand-hills which stretched along the right bank of 
 the stream. The duellers and their seconds went toward these 
 sand-hills. 
 
 "We will stop here," said Zagloba. 
 
 "Agreed," they all answered. 
 
 Zagloba's uneasiness increased and, at last, he approached 
 Volodiyovski and whispered. 
 
 "Pan Michael . . . . " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "For God's sake, Pan Michael, do your best! Skshetuski's 
 fate lies in your hands, the freedom of the princess, your own 
 life and mine; for, may God prevent it, but if you should be 
 unlucky, I know of nothing that will save me from this 
 murderer." 
 
 "Why did you call him out then?" 
 
 "The word is spoken. ... I depended upon you Pan 
 Michael; for I am getting old, my breath is short and T am 
 clumsy; and this rascal can bound like a cricket. He is a 
 rascally hound. Pan Michael." 
 
 "I will do my best," said the little knight. 
 
554 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 "May God be with you! Do not lose your presence of 
 mind!" 
 '"Eh, why should I?" 
 
 At this moment, one of the Pan Syelitskis approached. 
 
 "Your Cossack is a queer fellow," he whispered, "he acts 
 as if he were our equal or even better than we are. He ha? a 
 sense of chivalry; his mother must have looked at a noble- 
 man." 
 
 "Eh!" said Zagloba, "more probably a nobleman looked at 
 his mother." 
 
 "That is what I think," said Yolodiyovski. 
 
 "Let us take position!" said Bohun suddenly, "stop here!" 
 
 "Let us take position! Let us take position!" 
 
 They took position; the nobles in a semicircle and Yolodi- 
 yovski and Bohun opposite one another. 
 
 VolodiyovsM, ^vith an air of experience in such matters 
 which belied his youth, tried the ground with his foot to see 
 if it was hard enough; then, he looked about him to take 
 in all the inequalities of the ground, and it was evident that 
 he took the matter seriously. He had to settle with a knight, 
 the most celebrated in the Ukraine, in whose honor popular 
 songs were sung, and whose name was known to the extremest 
 limits of Eussia, even to the Crimea. Pan Michael, a simple 
 lieutenant of dragoons, counted a great deal on this duel, as 
 he would either meet with a glorious death or an equally 
 glorious victory. He, therefore, omitted nothing that might 
 render him worthy of such an opponent. His face conse- 
 quently became so earnest that Zagloba, when he noticed it, 
 was fairly frightened. 
 
 "He is losing courage," he thought. "It is all up with him, 
 as it is with me!" 
 
 Yolodiyovski, after investigating the ground thoroughly, 
 unbuttoned his coat. 
 
 "It is cool," he said, "but we shall be warm enough soon." 
 
 Bohun followed his example. They both took off their 
 coats and stood in their shirt sleeves, with the right sleeve 
 turned back. "But how small little Pan iliehael looked beside 
 the tall, powerful ataman; one could hardly see him. His 
 seconds looked uneasily at the Cossack's broad chest and pow- 
 erful muscles which appeared imder the turned back sleeve, 
 looking like knotted cords. It was as though a little bantam 
 should undertake to fight with an enormous hawk of the 
 steppes. Bohun's nostrils were distended as if they smelt 
 
IN THE NAME OF GOD, BEGIN! 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 555 
 
 blood; his face appeared to be drawn up, so that the black 
 locks over his forehead almost reached his eyebrows; his 
 sword twitched in his hand; the fierce eyes seemed to pierce 
 through his opponent; he awaited the signal. 
 
 And Volodiyovski held up his bare sword to the light once 
 more, tugged at his yellow mustache and took his position. 
 
 "It will be a regular butchery" growled Kharlamp to 
 Syelitski. 
 
 Then Zagloba's voice said, rather unsteadily: 
 
 "In the name of God, begin!" 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The swords swished through the air and blade clashed 
 blade. They soon changed their ground, fcr Bohun attacked 
 so furiously that Pan Yolodiyovski was obliged to spring back 
 a few steps, and his seconds did the same. Bohun's strokes 
 fell like hghtning and the excited beholders could not fol- 
 low them with their eyes. It seemed to them as though Pan 
 Mishael was completely surrounded and covered with sword 
 thrusts and that God alone could save him from this attack. 
 There was continuous swishing of swords, which fairly dis- 
 turbed the air as though a wind were blowing in their faces. 
 The fury of the chieftain increased; he was possessed with 
 the madness of battle, smd drove Volodiyovski before him 
 like a hurricane. The little knight continued to retreat and 
 to defend himself. His outstretched right arm hardly liioved, 
 the wrist alone describing small but rapid semicircles quick 
 as thought, as he warded Bohun's wild strokes. He caught 
 each stroke, parried it, again guarded, and retreated at the 
 same time, fixing his eyes on those of the Cossack, and remain- 
 ing perfectly calm in the midst of the serpentine-lightning 
 strokes; only on his cheeks were two red spots. 
 
 Zagloba shut his eyes and listened to stroke upon stroke, 
 clash upon clash. 
 
 "He is still defending himself," he thought. 
 
 "He is still defending himself," whispered the two Syelit- 
 skis and Kharlamp. 
 
 "He is already driven to the bank," added Kushel softly. 
 
 Zagloba opened his eyes again and looked up. 
 
 A'olodiyovski's back was against the bank, but he did not 
 appear to be wounded and his face only grew redder and a 
 few drops of sweat stood out on his forehead. 
 
 Zagloba's heart beat with hope. 
 
 "Pan Michael is a fighter of fighters," he thought, "and 
 the other man will finally Ix^come exhausted." 
 
 Bohun's face grew pale, sweat covered his forehead; but his 
 opponent's resistance only increased his rage, his wliite teeth 
 
 556 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^c-, 
 
 gleamed beneath his moustache and a growl of anger escaped 
 him. 
 
 Volodiyovski never took his. eye off him and continued to 
 guard. 
 
 Suddenly, feeling -the hank beside him, ne pulled himself 
 together; his seconds thought he was about to fall; but he 
 bent forward, crouched, and threw himself like a stone at 
 the breast of the Cossack. 
 
 "He is attacking," cried Zagloba. 
 
 "He is attacking," repeated the others. 
 
 It was really the ease. Now, the chieftain retreated and 
 the little knight, who had found out the whole strength of 
 his opponent, pressed on him with so much energy that his 
 seconds gasped for breath. He was evidently becoming ex- 
 cited — the little eyes flashed fire. Again he crouched and 
 again sprang forward, cihanging his position at every moment, 
 describing circles around the chieftain and forcing him to 
 turn round constantly. 
 
 "An adept! an adept!" cried Zagloba. 
 
 "You are lost!" said Bohun, suddenly. 
 
 "You axe lost!" answered Volodiyovski like an echo. 
 
 Here the Cossack used a trick, which was only known to 
 the most practised figihters. He suddenly changed his sword 
 from the right to the left hand and made such a powerful 
 stroke that Pan Michael fell to the earth as though struck by 
 lightning. 
 
 "Jesus Maria!" cried Zagloba. 
 
 But Pan Michael had fallen intentionally, and Bohun's 
 sword cut through the empty air. The little knight at once 
 sprang up like a wild-cat, and slashed with almost the whole 
 length of his sword across the breast of the Cossack. 
 
 Bohun tottered, took a step forward, and with an effort 
 gave a last blow, which Pan Volodiyovski parried with ease. 
 Twice, he struck his opponent's bowed head, and the sword 
 dropped from Bohun's powerless hands and the warrior fell 
 on his face in the sand, which presently became a wide pool 
 of blood beneath him. 
 
 Elyashenka who had been present at the fight, threw him- 
 self upon the body of the ataman. 
 
 The seconds were unable to speak a word for some time, 
 and Pan Michael also was silent- he leaned both hands on his 
 sword and panted heavily. 
 
 Zagloba was the first to break the silence. 
 
2^8 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Pan Michael, come to my arms!"' he said, in an unsteady 
 voice. 
 
 They all surrounded him. - 
 
 "You are a fighter of the first rank. May the balls strike 
 you!" said Pan Syelitski. 
 
 "I see you are a tough knot," said Kharlamp, "I will stand 
 up with you, so that no one may say I was afraid; but if you 
 should punish me like that I should still say, 'I congratulate 
 you, I congratulate you.' " 
 
 "Let that go, gentlemen, for, to tell -the truth, you really 
 have no good reason to fight," said Zagloba. 
 
 "That will not d-o, for it is a question of my reputation," 
 said the light-cavalryman, "for which I would ^llingly sacri- 
 fice my head." 
 
 "I care nothing about your head, but let us give it up," said 
 Volodiyovski, "for I am really not standing in your way as 
 you think; there is another in the case who is more fortunate 
 than I." 
 
 "How so?' 
 
 "On the word of a knight!" 
 
 "Make it up," cried the Syelitskis and Kushel. 
 
 "Let it be so!" said Kharlamp, holding out his arms. 
 
 Volodiyovski threw himself into the outstretched arms and 
 they kissed one another till the banks re-echoed, and Khar- 
 lamp remarked: 
 
 "I had no idea that you could give that giant such a beat- 
 ing! And yet he understood how to wield a sword?" 
 
 "I never would have believed him to be siich a swordsman, 
 where can he have learned it?" 
 
 Here the general attention was directed to the prostrate 
 form of the Cossack chieftain. Elyashenka had turned his 
 master over so that his face was upturned; and he looked with 
 tears for any sign of life. Bohun's face was not recognizable 
 for it was covered with blood, which flowed from the wounds 
 in the head and congealed in the cool air; the shirt on his 
 breast was also soaked with blood, but he still gave signs of 
 life. He was evidently in the death convulsion, his feet 
 twit<;hed and his hands were clenched and dug in the sand. 
 Zagloba looked at him and motioned with his hand. 
 
 "He has had enough," he said, "he is taking leave of the 
 world." 
 
 "Ah!" said one of the Syelitskis, looking at the body, "he 
 is quite dead." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORV. ^59 
 
 "Bah! he is almost hacked through and through." 
 
 "He was not a bad knight," murmured Volodiyovski, shak- 
 ing his head. 
 
 "I have something to say about that," added Zagloba. 
 
 During this time Elyashenka was trying to lift the unfortu- 
 nate ataman, to carry him away; but, as he was no longer 
 young and strong, and Bohun was almost a giant, he was un- 
 able to do it. It was some furlongs to the inu and Bohun 
 might expire at any moment. When the sergeant saw this, 
 he turned to the gentlemen. 
 
 "Gentlemen!" he cried, folding his hands, "help me, for 
 God and the Holy Virgin's sake; do not let him die here like 
 a dog. An old man like me cannot manage -t alone, and 
 there is no one near!" 
 
 The gentlemen looked at one another, their hatred for 
 Bohun had vanished from all hearts. 
 
 "True; it is not fitting thait we should leave him here like 
 a dog," murmured Zagloba, "as we fought a duel with him, 
 we can no longer consider him a peasant, but as a soldier 
 who needs assistance. Who will help me to carry him, gen- 
 tleemen ?" 
 
 "I," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Carry him on my cloak," added Kharlamp. 
 
 In a few minutes Bohun was placed on the cloak at either 
 end of which was Zagloba, Volodiyovski, Kishel and Elyask- 
 enka and the procession moved with slow steps towards the 
 inn, accompanied by Kharlamp and the two Syelitskis. 
 
 "He has a strong hold on life," said Zagloba, be is still 
 moving. Good God! if anyone had told me that I should 
 be his nurse and carry him as I am doing now, I would have 
 laughed. What a fool I am! I have a very tender heart, 
 I know, but it cannot be helped. I will bind up his wounds 
 once again. I hope that we shall never meet again in this 
 world and I want him to have a pleasant remembrance of me- 
 in the other." 
 
 "Do you really think, then, that he will not recover?" asked 
 Kharlamp. 
 
 "He, recover! I would not give an old rag for his life. It 
 was so ordained and can't be changed. Even if he had 
 escaped from Volodiyovski's hands, he would not have got 
 away from me. But I am glad it happened as it has, for I am 
 already looked upon as a slayer without mercy. What can T 
 do if anyone puts himself in my way ? I had to pay Pan 
 
56o 
 
 WITB FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 Dunchevski five hundred gold zlatos indemnity, and you all 
 know that the Russian property does not bring in any income 
 at present." 
 
 "That is true. They have completely plundered you over 
 there," said Kharlaiup. 
 
 "Ugh I This Cossack is hea^-y," said Zagloba. '"I am 
 quite out of breath. Plundered! I should say they had 
 plundered. But I hope that the Diet vrill make some pro- 
 vision for us. If it does not, we shall all starve to death. . . 
 How heavy he is. how heavy! Look, his wounds are begin- 
 ning to bleed again. Pan Kharlamp run to the inn and tell 
 the Jew to knead up some bread and cobwebs. It is true it 
 will not be of much use to a dead man, but it is our Christian 
 duty to stanch the wounds; he will die more easily. Lively! 
 Pan Kharlamp." 
 
 Pan Kharlamp ran ahead, and, as soon as they had finally 
 brought Bohun into the room of the inn, Zagloba set to work 
 to bandage him with great skill and deftness. He stanched 
 the blood, closed the wounds, and then, turning to El^'ash- 
 enka, said: 
 
 "You, old man, are no longer needed here. Bide speedily 
 to Zaborova and entreat that they will allow you to see the 
 Leader at once. Give him the letter and relate all that you 
 witnessed, just as you saw it. If you lie, I shall find it out, 
 for I am the confidant of the illustrious prince — and I will 
 have your head chopped off. Greet Khmyelnitski from me, 
 for he knows and loves me. We will give the ataman honor- 
 able burial: and \x)u, attend to your business. Do not wander 
 out of your way, for someone may kill you before you have 
 time to find out who it is. God be with you, go, go!" 
 
 "Permit me, sir, to wait until he is perfectly cold'." 
 
 "Go, I tell you!" said Zagloba, angrily. "If not, I will 
 have you given up to the peasants in Zaborova and greet 
 Khmyelnitski for me." 
 
 Elyashenka bowed low and went out. Zagloba, however, 
 said to Kharlamp and the Syelitskis: 
 
 "I sent away the Oossack, he had nothing to do here; and 
 if he should be killed, as may easily happen, they would 
 blame us. The ZaslavsMs and the chancellor's mongrels will 
 be the first to cry out that the prince's men, contrary to God's 
 commands, have murdered the whole Cossack embassy. But 
 a clever head is of iise in all emergencies. We will not let 
 ourselves be pounded into grits by these fools, these barley- 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 561 
 
 porridge eaters, and you, gentlemen, give your testimony, 
 should it be necessary, and tell how everything happened; and 
 that he, himself, called us out. I must also give orders to the 
 bailiff here to have hdm buried somewhere. No one here 
 knows who he is, and they will think he is a nobleman and 
 bury him with honors. ■ It is time to set out. Pan Michael, 
 for we must bring word to the Prince Voyevoda. 
 
 The death-rattle in Bohun's, tbroat interrupted Zagloba's 
 speech. 
 
 "Oh, the soul is seeking its way," said the nobleraan. "It 
 is growing dark already, he will find the darkness in the other 
 world. But, as he has not wronged our poor girl, may Grod 
 grant him everlasting rest. Amen! Let us mount. Pan 
 Michael, I forgive him everything from my whole heait, 
 although, in truth, I got more in his way than he did;in mine. 
 But now, this is the end. Farewell, sirs, I am pleased to have 
 met such noble knights. Do not forget to give your testi- 
 mony should it be necessary." 
 
 36 
 
CHAPTEE Xni. 
 
 Prince Yeremy received the news of Bohun's death with 
 indifference, especially when he learned that men who did 
 not belong to his regiments were ready to bear witness that 
 Volodiyovski had been challenged. If the affair had not 
 taken place a few days before it was publicly announced that 
 Yan Casimir had been chosen; if the struggle of the two 
 candidates, Yeremy's opponents, with the chancellor and 
 Prince Dominik at their head, had still been going on, they 
 would have made of this circumstance a weapon against him, 
 in spite of all witnesses and all testimony. But, after Charles" 
 withdrawal, men's minds were otherwise engaged, and prob- 
 ably the whole event would be completely forgotten. 
 
 Kimyelnitski might possibly make use of it to show that 
 he had again suffered an injustice, but the prince expected 
 rightly that the king's son, in answering the letter, would 
 also point out the manner in which his ambassador had come 
 to his death, and Khmyelnitski would not dare question the 
 royal word. 
 
 The prince was particularly anxious that his soldiers should 
 not be brought into any political difficulty. He rejoiced 
 on Skshetuski's account that this had happened, for the re- 
 covery of the young Princess Kurtsevich was now much more 
 possible and practicable. She might be found, freed or 
 rescued, and, no matter at what cost, the prince would spare 
 nothing, not even the greatest cost to release the sorrow of 
 his favorite knight, and to give him back his happiness. 
 
 Volodiyovski had gone to the prince in fear and trembling, 
 for, though in general he was no coward, he feared the 
 prince's frown as he feared fire. How great then was his 
 astonishment and joy, when, after receiving his message and 
 reflecting for a few moments, the prince drew a costly ring 
 from his finger and said: 
 
 "1 esteem your self-reetraint, gentlemen, for if you had 
 been the first to attack him, great and serious trouble might 
 have resulted in the assembly; and if the princess is found, 
 562 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^g, 
 
 Skshetuski will owe you everlasting gratitude. I hear thaA 
 you, Voloddyovski, cannot keep your sword in its sheath as 
 some cannot restrain their tongue, and you deserve a penalty 
 on that account; but, as you acted in the interests of your 
 friends and maintained the reputation of our regiments in 
 a duel with such a well-known warrior, take this ring in re- 
 membrance of the day. I knew that you were a good soldier 
 and Swordsman, but I hear that you are a master of masters." 
 
 "ite!" cried Zagloba, "he would cut off the devil's horns in 
 the third round. If your Highness should ever wish to cut 
 off my head, may I entreat that no other than he should be 
 given the task, for I know my transit to the other world 
 would be rapid. He cut Bohun twice across the breast and 
 then gave him two strokes on the brain-box." 
 
 The prince loved knightly deeds and good soldiers so he 
 smiled pleasantly and asked: "Have you ever found anyone 
 who equals you with the sword?" 
 
 "Once, Skshetuski wounded me slightly, but I also 
 wounded him; at the time your Highness put us in the tower. 
 Among others, Pan Podbipyenta would be a match for me, 
 for he has superhuman strength, — and even perhaps Kushel, 
 if he had better eyes." 
 
 "Do not believe him your Highness," said Zagloba, "no one 
 can withstand him." 
 
 "Did Bohun defend himself long?" 
 
 "I had hard work with him," said Pan Michael, "he knew 
 how to fight with his left hand." 
 
 "Bohun told me himself," interrupted Zagloba, "that he 
 spent whole days practising with the Kurtseviches and I saw 
 him practising with others in Chigrin." 
 
 "Do you know what, Pan Volodiyovski," said the prince 
 with pretended earnestness, "supposing you ride to Zamost, 
 call out Khmyelnitski to fight with swords and, with one 
 stroke, deliver the Commonwealth from all its sorrow and 
 misery." 
 
 "If your Highness commands, I will go; if Khmyelnitski 
 will only fight with me," answered Volodiyovski. 
 
 The prince replied: 
 
 "We are joking, while the world is going to ruin. But you 
 really must ride to Zamost gentlemen; I have word from the 
 Cossack camp that as soon as Prince Casimir's election is 
 announced, Khmyelnitski will raise the siege and retreat to 
 Russia. He does this either from real or pretended respect 
 
564 
 
 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 to the king, or because his forces miight be easily routed at 
 Zamost. So you must go there and tell Skshetuski what has 
 happened and that he must look for the princess. Tell him 
 that 'he may take as many men as he needs for his expedition 
 from our regiment under the Starosta of Valet's command; 
 and I will grant him leave and a safe conduct, which you will 
 take to him, for I am deeply interested in his happiness." 
 
 "Your Highness is a father to all of us," said Volodiyovski, 
 "and we will serve you faithfully to the end of our days." 
 
 "I do not know if my following may not diminish before 
 long," said the prince, "if all my possessions in the Dnieper 
 land are lost — but as long as they last, what is mine is yours." 
 
 "Oh," cried Pan Michael, "our poor property will always be 
 your Highness's property." 
 
 "And take mine with the rest," said Zagloba. 
 
 "I do not need it, as yet," said the prince graciously, "be- 
 sides, I hope that even if I should lose everything the Com- 
 monwealth will take care of my children." 
 
 The prince spoke these words in a moment of clairvoyance 
 of what might come to pass. Some ten years later, the Com- 
 monwealth gave his only son the best that it had to offer — the 
 crown; but at the present time the prince's gigantic fortune 
 had decreased considerably. 
 
 "Well, we got out of it finely," said Zagloba, after he and 
 Volodiyovski had left the prince. "Pan Michael, you are 
 sure of promotion. Let me see the ring! By God! it is 
 worth a hundred zlotas (florins); the stone is very beautiful. 
 Let us ask an Armenian in the bazaar about it to-morrow. 
 One could carouse for its value in eating and drinking and 
 other delights; what do you say. Pan Michael? That is a 
 soldier's maxim, 'Live to-day, perish to-morrow,' and the 
 meaning is that it does not pay to think of to-morrow. Man's 
 life is short, very short. Pan Michael. The most important 
 thing is, however, that from now on the prince has taken you 
 to his heart. He would have given ten times as much to have 
 made Skshetuski a present of Bohun; and you have done it. 
 Believe me, you are on the high road to promotion. Has not 
 the prince given villages in life-tenure to his knights, or even 
 given them out and out? A ring is of no value; he will cer- 
 tainly give you something else, and probably marry you at 
 last to one of his relations." 
 
 Pan Michael almost jumped. 
 
 "How do you know that. . . " 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^5^ 
 
 "That what?" 
 
 "I only meant what notion have you got in your head? 
 How could such a thing come to pass?" 
 
 "Does not everything come to pass? Are you not a noble, 
 and are not all nobles equal? Have not all the magnates 
 distant cousins among the nobility, and do they not give them 
 in marriage to their favorite attendants? Has not the 
 Suffchynski in Siench a distant relation of the Vishnyovy- 
 etski for a wife. They are all brothers Pan Michael, all 
 brothers, even if one serves another, for we all descended 
 from Japhet; and the whole distinction in rank and riches 
 depends on whether you can obtain them or not. It is said 
 that, in other places, there are considerable differences in 
 rank among the nobility; but that is a mangy Uobility. I 
 understand differences between dogs, as for instance; sd;ters, 
 greyhounds and bloodhounds, by their voice in hunting; but, 
 consider. Pan Michael, with the nobility it is not so, or we 
 should all be hounds and not nobles, which disgrace to this 
 noble condition our good Lord docs not permit." 
 
 "You are right, sir," said Volodiyovski, "but the Vishny- 
 ovyetski are almost of royal blood." 
 
 "And you, Pan Michael, might not you be chosen for king? 
 I should be the first to insist on nominating you; like Pan 
 Zygmunt Skarshevski who swears that he would elect himself 
 if he were not a dicer. Everything with us thank God is by 
 free suffrages; and oi^r poverty, alone, not our birth, stands in 
 our way." 
 
 "That's just whait it is," sighed Pan Michael. 
 
 "What is to be done! They have robbed us completely and 
 we shall be completely ruined, if the Diet does not give us 
 some help; utterly ruined. Is it any wonder that a man 
 who is naturally abstemious should take to drinking under 
 such circumstances. Come Pan Michael, let us drink a glass 
 of beer, perhaps that may comfort us somewhat." 
 
 During this conversation, they had reached the old town 
 and stepped into a wine room before which stood several 
 boys holding the furs and cloaks of their masters, who were 
 drinking inside. They sat down at a table, ordered a bottle, 
 and considered what was best to do, now that Bohun was 
 dead. 
 
 "If it is true that Khmyelnitski is raising the siege of 
 Zamost and there will be peace, the princess is ours," said 
 Zagloba. 
 
566 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "We must go as soon as possible to Skshetuski. We will 
 not leave him again until we have found the princess." 
 
 '^e will go together, hut now it is impossible to reach 
 Zamost." 
 
 "That makes no difference, if God only helps us later." 
 
 Zagloba emptied his glass. 
 
 "He will help us, He will help us," he said, "listen Pan 
 Michael to what I tdl you." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Bohun is dead." 
 
 VolodiyovsM looked up in astonishment. 
 
 "Pshaw, who knows that better than I do?" 
 
 'TTou deserve all credit. Pan Michael; you know it and I 
 know it. I watched you fighting, I see you now — and, never- 
 theless, I have to repeat it to myself, for sometimes it seems as 
 if it were only a dream. What an anxiety is removed, what a 
 knot your sword has cut! May the balls strike you! by God! 
 it is incredible; no, I cannot stand it any longer; let me em- 
 brace j-Qu once more, little Michael. Believe me, when I 
 first met you, I thought to myself, 'H'm, a little creature' — 
 and see what a fine creature it is that has beaten Bohun. 
 Bohun lives no longer, no, not a trace, no ashes left, killed 
 dead, forever and ever, amen!" 
 
 Here, Zagloba put his arms around Volodiyovski and kissed 
 him, and Pan Michael was moved to tears, as though he were 
 mourning Bohun. Finally, he managed to free himself from 
 Zagloba's arms and sadd: 
 
 "We did not see him die and he is a tough fellow — suppos- 
 ing he should get well!" 
 
 'Tor God's sake, what do you mean?" said Zagloba. "I am 
 ready to ride to-morrow to lipki to order him the most splen- 
 did funeral, if he is only dead." 
 
 "And what good would that do? You would not kill a 
 wounded man! It is often so with sWord wounds; if a man 
 does not give up -the ghost at once, he generally creeps out of 
 it somehow. The sword is not like a bullet." 
 
 "No, it is impossible, the death-rattle was beginning as we 
 rode away. Oh, no, it is impossible, his breast was cut open 
 Hke the door of a shed, let him rest, you cut him as if he 
 were a hare. We must go to Skshetuski as soon as possible 
 to help him and comfort him, for he is worrying himself to 
 death." 
 
 "Or he has gone into a monastery, as he told me himself." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 567 
 
 "No wonder! I should do the same thing in his place. I 
 know no cavalier who is more worthy than he, but none who 
 is more unhappy. Oh, God is proving him severely, very 
 severely." 
 
 "Stop there, sir," said Volodiyovski, who was a little drunk, 
 "for I cannot keep from tears." 
 
 "And how can I then," answered Zagloba, "such an honor- 
 able knight, such a soldier. . . and then the girl! you do not 
 know her; . . . she. is a dear little worm." 
 
 Here Zagloba began to bellow in a deep bass, for he loved 
 the little princess very dearly, and Pan Michael accompanied 
 him in a somewhat higher key, and they drank wine mixed 
 with tears, and their heads sank on their breasts; they sat for 
 some time in gloomy silence. At length, Zagloba brought his 
 fist down on the table: 
 
 "Pan Michael, why do we weep, Bohun is slai^i." 
 
 "Ah, that is true," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "We ought rather to rejoice. What fools we are not to go 
 and look for her at once." 
 
 "Let us start at once," said Volodiyovski, standing up. 
 
 "Let us drink," said Zagloba, "God grant that we may yet 
 hold her children over the font; and all that because we have 
 killed Bohun." 
 
 "It serves him right!" ended Pan Michael, who did not re- 
 mark that Zagloba was already sharing the fame of Bohun's 
 death. 
 
TlHAPTER XIV. 
 
 At length the Te Deum Laudamus sounded in the cathe- 
 dral in Warsaw and "the King was enthroned in his majesty;" 
 the cannon thundered, the bells rang, and confidence was re- 
 stored to all hearts. Now at last ^the time of interregum, 
 disputes, and imrest, was over, which had been so terrible for 
 the Commonwealth, especially as it happened at a time of 
 general misery. Those who had trembled at the thought of 
 the approaching dangers, now breathed freely; as the election 
 had passed more quietly than any had dared to hope. Many 
 beUeved that the unexampled civil war was now over, once 
 for all; and that all that remained for the newly-chosen King 
 was to sentence the guilty ones. Khmyelnitski's attitude also 
 confirmed this hope. The Cossacks who were obstinately 
 besieging the fortress of Zamost declared, as one man, for 
 Yan Casimir. Khmyelnitski sent by provost Hunzel 
 Mokrski letters fvdl of assurances of submission and fealty 
 and by other messengers, humble entreaties for himself and 
 the Zaporojian armed. It was also known that the King 
 in accord with the policy of the chancellor Ossolinski wished 
 to make important concessions to the Cossacks. As before 
 the defeat of Pilavyets the word "war" had been in everyone's 
 mouth, now, everyone spoke of peace. It was expected that 
 after so much misfortune the Commonwealth would breathe 
 freely and that all her wounds would be healed under the new 
 regime. 
 
 Finally, SniarovsM went with a letter from the king to 
 Khmyelnitski; and, soon after, the joyful news was spread 
 abroad that the Cossacks had left Zamost and were going to 
 the Ukraine, where they would quietly await the commands 
 of the king, and a commission which should investigate the 
 wrongs of which they complained. It seemed to all ?? though 
 a seven-hued rainbow, promising peace and quiet, overarched 
 the land after a storm. 
 
 Indeed, evil prophecies and forebodings were not wanting; 
 but, in face of the happy reality, no great importance was 
 568 
 
WITU FIRE AND SWORD. 569 
 
 attached to them. , The king travelled to Chenstohovo to 
 thank the heavenly intercessor for his election and to place 
 himself under her further protection, and then he went to 
 Cracow for the coronation. The royal officials followed in 
 his train, and Warsaw was deserted. The refugees from Kus- 
 sia alone remained behind, as they did not dare to return 
 to their ruined property; or, perhaps, had none. 
 
 Prince Yeremy, as a senator of the Commonwealth was 
 obhged to go with the king, but Volodiyovski and Zagloba at 
 the head of a dragoon regiment, went by forced marches to 
 Zamost in order to announce to Skshetuski the joyful news of 
 Bohun's deathj and then to set out with him to looTc for the 
 princess. 
 
 Zagloba left Warsaw, not without a certain sadness; for he 
 was as happy as a fish in the sea among this enormous crowd 
 of noblemen, amid the noise of the election, and the uninter- 
 rupted carousing and quarreling, in company with Volodi- 
 yovski. But he was comforted by the thought that he was 
 returning to an active life, to adventures and intrigues, which 
 he was planning; and besides he had his own opinion of the 
 dangers of the capital, which he explained to Volodiyovski in 
 the following manner: 
 
 "It is true. Pan Michael, that we have done great things 
 in Warsaw, but God preserve us from remaining there too 
 long. I tell you, we should have become effeminate like 
 those celebrated Carthaginians, who were completely ruined 
 by the enervating life in Capua. And the worst of all are the 
 women, they lead one to destruction; for, mark you, there is 
 nothing more dangerous than a woman. I am already old 
 and yet they try to attract me ... " 
 
 ''Eh! never mind that," interrupted Volodiyovski. 
 
 "I have often said to myself thai it is time to get some 
 sense; but I am so warm-blooded. You have more phlegm, 
 but I am choleric. But that is a secondary matter, we are 
 now going to begin another life. There have been times 
 when I was unhappy without war. Our regiment is in good 
 condition and near Zamost there are enough rioters; we can 
 amuse ourselves with them on the way to the princess. We 
 will then find Skshetuski and that giant, that Lithuanian 
 crane, that hop-pole. Pan Longin, we have not seen him for 
 a long time." 
 
 "You long to see him and, yet, when you see him, you do 
 not give him any peace." 
 
570 WITB PIBE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Because when he speaks it is as when your horse moves 
 his tail and he stretches out every word as a shoemaker does a 
 piece of leather. It is all strength with him, not intelligence. 
 "When he embraces anyone, he squeezes his ribs through the 
 skin; but, on the other hand there is not a chUd in the Com- 
 monwealth who could not hang him up on a hook. Is it not 
 absurd that a man of such fortune should be so stupid?" 
 
 "Is he really so rich?" 
 
 "He! When I first met him he had a belt that was so full 
 of money that he could not fasten it, and dragged it about 
 with him like a sausage. You might hit it with a stick and 
 it would* not bend. He told me hims If how many villages 
 he possessed;^ but who could remember all their heathenish 
 names! He owns half a district; it is a great family among 
 the soup-swillers, the family of the Podbipyenta." 
 
 "Are you not over-coloring it somewhat?" 
 
 "I am not; for I am repeating only what he told me him- 
 self, and he never told a lie in his life, for anyway he is too 
 stupid to tell a he." 
 
 "Well, then Anusia will be in the fullest sense of the word 
 princess. But, as for his stupidity I do not agree with yott 
 at all; he is a reticent man and so sensible that no one can give 
 better councU in emergency. He is no rascal; but God has 
 given to very few such a fluent tongue as you have, that can- 
 not be denied. He is a great knight and the noblest of men, 
 the best proof of it is that you yourself love him and like to 
 see him." 
 
 "He is a scourge of God," growled Zagloba, "the only rea- 
 son I want to see him is that I like to roast him about Panna 
 Anna." 
 
 "I would not advise you to do that, for it might be danger- 
 ous. One can amuse oneself at his expense, but in this case 
 he would lose patience." 
 
 "Let him lose it, I will cut off his ears as I did Dunchev- 
 ski's." 
 
 "Let it alone, sir, I would not advise my worst enemy to 
 try it." 
 
 "Tut, tut, tut, let me only see him." 
 
 Zagloba's wish was fulfilled sooner than he expected. 
 When they reached Konskoroli Volodiyovski determined to 
 
 ^Myshykishki, Psikishki, Pigvishki, Synitisiany, Tsiapntsiany Kaputsi- 
 any, or rather Kaputsiaiia — glova (cabbage-head) — Baltupie. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 571 
 
 rest, for the horses were very tired. Who can describe the 
 astonishment of the two friends, when, on entering the dark 
 hall of the inn the first person they met was the nobleman, 
 Pan Podbipyenta. 
 
 "How are you, sir, it is a long time since I saw you,' said 
 Zagloba. "So the Cossacks in Zamost did not cut you to 
 pieces." 
 
 Podbiyenta embraced one after the other with both arms 
 and kissed them on the cheeks. 
 
 "Oh, it is good to see you again," he said joyously. 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 To Warsaw, to the prince." 
 
 "The prince is n-ot in Warsaw, he has gone to Cracow with 
 the king, to carry the orb before him at the coronation." 
 
 "And Pan Veyher has sent me to Warsaw with a letter, 
 and to find out where the prince's regiments are going; for, 
 thank God, they are no longer needed in Zamost." 
 
 "You do not need to go there,, for we are bringing com- 
 mands." 
 
 Pan Longin was annoyed; he had wished with whole heart 
 to see the prince, the court, and especially a certain little per- 
 son at this court. 
 
 Zagloba winked meaningly at Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Well, then, I will go to Cracow," he said, after a short 
 pause, "I received orders to deliver the letter and I will do 
 so." 
 
 "Let us go into the room and warm ourselves with some 
 beer," said Zagloba. 
 
 "And where are you going?" asked Longin. 
 
 "To Zamost, to Skshetuski." 
 
 "The lieutenant is not in Zamost." 
 
 "Old woman, here's a cake, where is he then?" 
 
 "Somewhere near Khorosch. He is scattering groups of 
 peasantry. Khymelnitski retreated, but his officers are burn- 
 ing and plundering on the road. The Starosta of Valets has 
 sent Pan Jacob Eogovski to scatter them." 
 
 "And Skshetuski is with him?" 
 
 "Yes, but they are going separately; for there are great 
 differences between them, of which I will tell you later." 
 
 They had entered the room, Zagloba ordered three pots 
 of beer to be heated, and, approaching the table at which 
 Longin and Volodiyovski were already seated, he said: 
 
 "You do not yet know the greatest and most joyful news. 
 
^j2 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Pan Podbiyenta; the news that we, I and Pan Michael have 
 killed Bohun." 
 
 The Lithiianian almost jumped from the bench in his as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 "My own dear brothers, can that be?"' 
 
 "As true as we are both alive." 
 
 "And the two of you killed him?" 
 
 "We did." 
 
 "That is news indeed! God, God!" said the Lithuanian 
 clapping his hands, "You say you both killed him, how could 
 you both do it?" 
 
 "In this way. I managed by craft, to bring him to such 
 a pass that he challenged us — do you understand? upon 
 which Pan Michael fought him and cut him up like an Easter 
 sucking-pig; he laid him out like a roast capon — do you un- 
 derstand?" 
 
 "Then you did not both fight him?" 
 
 "Xow, look here;" said Zagloba, "you must have been bled 
 and your understanding have become weakened. Do you 
 think I could fight with a dead man, or slay one already 
 down?" 
 
 "But you said you both fought him.'' 
 
 Zagloba shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "One must have the divine patience with this man. Pan 
 ]\Iiehael, did not Bohun call us both out?" 
 
 "He did," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Now, do you understand?" 
 
 "Well, let it be," answered Longin. "Skshetuski looked 
 for Bohun near Zamost, but he was not there any longer." 
 
 "How do you mean that Skshetuski looked for him?" 
 
 "I see that I must tell you everything from the beginning, 
 just as it happened,'" said Longin. "We remained, as you 
 knoTV, in Zamost and you went to Warsaw. We did not have 
 to wait long for the Cossacks. They came in enormous 
 crowds from Lemburg; one could not see the end of them 
 from the walls. But our prince has provided for Zamost so 
 well that it can hold out for two years. We began to believe 
 that they would not storm the fortress and were very sorry on 
 that account; for we were all looking forward to their de- 
 feat. As there were also Tartars among them, I hoped that 
 the merciful God would give me my three heads. . " 
 
 "Pray for one, and that a good one," answered Zagloba. 
 
 "Ah, you are the same as ever, sir; that does not sound 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. j-, 
 
 well," said the Lithuanian. "Well, we thought they would 
 not storm the town, but they were almost mad in their ob- 
 stinacy of heart, and began to build machines and then to 
 storm us. It appeared later that Khmyelnitski himself did 
 not wish that; but Charnota, their field commander, stormed 
 in upon him and said that he was trying to run away, like 
 a coward and to make friends with the Poles; and then 
 Khmyelnitski had nothing for it but to send Charnota for- 
 ward. What then happened, little brothers, I cannot tell 
 you. There was nothing to be seen but smoke and fire. At 
 first they attacked us boldly, filled the trench, and sprang 
 on the walls. We made it so hot for them, howeyer, that they 
 fled, not only from the walls, but from their own engines; 
 then we moved out with four regiments, and pursued them 
 and slaughtered them like cattle." 
 
 Volodiyovski rubbed his hands. 
 
 "Ah, I am sorry that I was not at that entertainment," he 
 cried excitedly. 
 
 "I too, might have been of some use there,' said Zagloba 
 with quiet assurance. 
 
 "And those that fought the best there were Skshetuski 
 and Jacob Eogovski," continued the Lithuanian. "Both 
 noble knights, but very antagonistic to each other. Eogovski, 
 particularly, sought a quarrel with Skshetuski and would 
 have undoubtedly called him out if Pan Veyher had not for- 
 bidden the duel under pain of death. We could not under- 
 stand at first, why Pan Eogovski wanted to fight, until we 
 discovered that he was a relation of Pan Lashch whom, you 
 remember, the prince drove out of the camp on Skshetuski's 
 account. This accounted for Eogovski's anger towards the 
 prince, and towards all of us; and especially towards the lieu- 
 tenant. This was the. discord between them, between two 
 men who, during the siege covered themselves with glory; 
 and who, before that, had wished to kill each other. They 
 were both first on the walls, first in a sally, until Khymel- 
 nitski finally got tired of attacking us and the regular siege 
 began, not omitting any treachery which might bring about 
 the fall of the town." 
 
 "He trusts in cunning more than anything," said Zagloba. 
 
 "A mad and, at the same time, an obscure man," added 
 Podbipyenta. "He thought that Pan Veyher was a German 
 — probably he knew nothing of the Voyevoda of Pomerania 
 of the same name, for he wrote a letter with the intention of 
 
c- , WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 3/ + 
 
 persuading the Starosta to betray the town, as if he were a 
 stranger and a hireling. But Pan Veyher told him in a letter 
 what he thought of him and that he had come with his temp- 
 tation to the wrong man. In order to make his dignity ap- 
 parent, the starosta insisted on sending this letter by some 
 person of importance and not by a trumpeter, and, as one 
 was sure to be killed among such wild beasts, none of our men 
 were anxious to go; so I undertook it and now — listen, for 
 the best is to come." 
 
 "We are listening attentively," said the two friends. 
 
 "Well, I rode there and found the hetman drunk. He re- 
 ceived me in a rage, especially when he had read the letter, 
 and threatened me with his baton; and I — humbly com- 
 mended my soul to (.rod and thought to myself, 'if he touches 
 me I will smash his head with my fist.' What was to be 
 done, little brothers, what could I do?" 
 
 "It was noble of you to think that," said Zagloba slyly. 
 
 "But his officers sought to calm him and stepped between 
 us," said Longin, "especially a young man, who was so bold 
 as to seize him round the waist and pull him back, saying 
 'you shall not go, little father, you are drunk.' I looked more 
 closely to see who was protecting me, astonished at his bold- 
 ness and that he was so familiar vnth Khmyelnitski and it 
 was — Bohun." 
 
 "Bohun'" cried Volodiyovski and Zagloba. 
 
 "Bohun, himself; I recognized him, for I had seen him in 
 Rozloga — and he recognized me. I heard him say to Khmy- 
 elnitski 'That is a good friend of mine' and Khmyelnitski, 
 with a sudden resolve that often comes to a drunkard, said: 
 'If he is thy friend, little son, give him fifty dollars and I 
 will give him a safe-conduct.' And he gave me the safe- 
 conduct; but, as for the money, I said, so as not to irritate 
 the animal, that he should save it for the Haiduks for it is 
 not the custom among officers to receive tips. They treated 
 me with great respect as I left the tent, but I had hardly got 
 outside when Bohun came up to me, 'We met each other once 
 in Rozloga,' he said. 'Yes, I remember,' I said, 'but at that 
 time I did not expect, little brother, that I should see you 
 again in this camp,' and he answered, 'It is not my own will, 
 but misfortune that has brought me here.' During the con- 
 versation I told him also how we had beaten him behind 
 Yarmolints. 'I did not know with whom I was dealing at 
 that time,' he said, 'I was wounded in the hand and had poor 
 sO'ldiers; for they imagined that Prince Yeremy was fighting 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. ^^^ 
 
 them.' 'And we did not know who you were/ I said, 'fot 
 iJ: Pan Skshetuski had known it, one of you would not be 
 ■ alive to-day.' " 
 
 ."You were right, but what did he think of it," asked Volo- 
 diyovski. 
 
 "He became embarrassed and said no more about it. He 
 then told me that Kshyvonos had sent him with letters to 
 Khymelnitski near Lemburg, that he might recover himself 
 a little; and that Khmyelnitski -would not let him return be- 
 cause he needed him as a representative on other missions. 
 Finally, he asked 'Where is Pan Skshetuski?' and when I 
 said, 'In Zamost,' he answered 'then perhaps we may meet' 
 and then we parted." 
 
 "I judge that immediately after that Khymelnitski sent 
 him to Warsaw," said Zagloba. 
 
 "He did; but wait a minute, sir. I returned to the fortress 
 and reported to Pan Veyher about my mission. It was al- 
 ready late at night. The following day, they stormed us 
 again, more obstinately than at first. I had no opportunity to 
 see Skshetuski for three days, when I told him that I had 
 seen Bohun and spoken to him. There were a number of 
 officers standing near, among them Eogovski. When he 
 heard that, he said mockingly "i know that it is a question of a 
 lady. If you are such a knight as people claim, there is 
 Bohun; challenge him to a duel with swords, and be sure 
 that this duellist will not let you off. We shall enjoy a fine 
 spectacle from the walls, they make more fuss about you 
 Vishnyovyetski men here than you deserve.' Skshetuski 
 looked at Pan Eogovski as if he would bite him 'Do you ad- 
 vise me?' he asked, 'that is well, but I do not know if you, 
 who make little of our valor, have the courage to go down 
 among the 'blacks' and deliver my challenge to Bohun.' And 
 Eogovski answered 'I have the courage, but I am neither 
 kith nor kin to you — I will not go.' The others now laughed 
 at Eogovski. 'Oh,' they said, 'now you are getting faint- 
 hearted; but, when it was a question of somebody else's skin, 
 you were very brave.' Eogovski, who is very proud, grew 
 angry, and undertook to do it. The following day he took 
 the challenge, but Bohun was not there. We did not believe 
 his 'report; but now, after what you have told me, I see that 
 he spoke the truth. Khmyelnitski must have really sent 
 Bohun away and that was when you killed him." 
 
 "Yes, that was it," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "But tell us," asked Zagloba, "where shall we now find 
 
276 WITH FIRE AND SITORD. 
 
 Skshetuski, "for, find him we must, in order to go with him 
 at once to look for the girl." 
 
 "You can learn more about him on the other side of Za- 
 most for they talk of nothing else. He and Kogovski have 
 completely routed Kalin, a Cossack colonel, by driving him 
 towards one another from opposite directions. After that 
 Skshetuski destroyed, on his own account, two Tartar cham- 
 buls, defeated Burlay and fought different mobs." 
 
 "Does Khmyelnitski allow that?" 
 
 "Khmyelnitski would have nothing to do with them and 
 says they were fighting contrary to his orders; otherwise no 
 one would believe in his fealty and obedience to the king." 
 
 "How bad the beer is in this Konskovoli!" remarked Za- 
 globa. 
 
 "Behind Lublin you will ride through a devastated land," 
 said the Lithuanian; ""for the expeditions went beyond Lublin, 
 and the Tartars drag everybody into slavery and God, alone 
 knows what they have pliindered beyond Zamost and 
 Hrubiesh. Skshetuski has already rescued several thousand 
 prisoners and sent them back to the fortress. He is working 
 with all his might, paying no attention to his health." 
 
 Here, Longin sighed and hung his head thoughtfully. 
 Presently, he resumed: 
 
 "See here, I think that God in His great mercy will surely 
 comfort Skshetuski and give him that alone which will make 
 him happy; for this knight's services are many. In these 
 times of destruction and self-interest, where each one thinks 
 of himself, he forgets his own interests. He could have ob- 
 tained leave from the prince long ago, in order to seek the 
 princess; but, instead of that, when the terrible blow struck 
 our dear mother country, he never slackened in his duty 
 for a moment and worked unceasingly, though his heart was 
 bleeding." 
 
 "He has the soul of a Roman, no one can deny it," said 
 Zagloba. 
 
 "He might serve as an example." 
 
 "Especially to you. Pan Podbipyenta, for all through the 
 war, instead of thinking of your mother country, you are 
 looking for your three heads." 
 
 "God sees my heart," said Longin, raising his eyes to 
 heaven. 
 
 "God has already rewarded Skshetuski with Bohun's 
 death," said Zagloba, "and also by allowing the Common- 
 wealth a time of rest. Now the time has come for him to 
 think of looking for his lost happiness." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^yy 
 
 "Will you gentlemen accompany liim?' asked the Lithu- 
 anian. 
 
 "Will not you?" 
 
 "I would do it with my whole heart, but what will become 
 of the letters. I have one from the starosta of Yelets to His 
 Majesty the king, another to the prince, and a third from 
 Skshetuski, also to the prince, with a request for leave." 
 
 "We are bringing him his leave." 
 
 "Pshaw, but I must deliver the letters." 
 
 "You must go to Cracow, there is nothing else to be done. 
 But, I tell you frankly that, in our expedition to look for the 
 princess, I should like to have such fists and such shoulders 
 as yours in our company; but I do not want you on any other 
 account, for there we must simulate. Tlje safest thing would 
 be to put on Cossack dress and pretend we are peasants, but 
 you would attract so much attention by your enormous 
 height that everyone would ask, 'What kind of pole is that? 
 Whence comes such a Cossack' — ^besides you cannot under- 
 stand much about their language. No, no, you go to Cracow 
 and we shall have to get along without you." 
 
 "I am of your opinion," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Then we will let it remain so," answered Longin. May 
 God in His mercy bless and guide you. Do you know where 
 she is hidden?" 
 
 "Bohun would not tell me, we know only what I heard 
 when Bohun kept me a prisoner in the pig-pen; but that is 
 enough." 
 
 "How will you find her?" 
 
 "That is my affair," said Zagloba. "I have succeeded in 
 doing more difficult things. The chief thing now is to get to 
 Skshetuski as soon as possible." 
 
 "Ask about him in Zamost. Pan Veyher must know where 
 he is; he corresponds with him, and Skshetuski delivers the 
 prisoners up to him. May God bless you!" 
 
 "The same to you," said Zagloba, "when you are in Cracow 
 with the Prince, remember us to Pan Kharlamp." 
 
 "Who is that?" 
 
 "He is a Lithuanian of such great beauty that he has 
 turned the heads of all the Princess's ladies in waiting in the 
 capital." 
 
 Pan Longin started. 
 
 "Sir, you are joking?" 
 
 "Good-bye sir! the beer in Konskovoli is wretched," con- 
 cluded Zagloba, winking at Volodiyovski. 
 37 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Pan Longin set out for Cracow with a heart pierced by an 
 arrow, and cruel Zagloba, accompanied by VolodiyoTski, went 
 to Zamost, where they did not even stay one day. The com- 
 mandant Starosta of Velets had told him that it was a long 
 time since he had heard anything of Skshetuski; and he 
 thought that the regiments which Skshetuski commanded 
 had gone to garrison Zbaraj, in order to protect that region 
 from the bands of freebooters. This was aU the more proba- 
 ble from the fact that Zbaraj, being the property of the Yish- 
 nyovyetski, was especially liable to the attacks of the prince's 
 deadly enemy. A long and weary road lay before Volodiyov- 
 sM and Zagloba; but, as they were obliged to travel this road 
 in their search for the princess, and it mattered not whether 
 sooner or later, they started without delay, resting no longer 
 than was absolutely necessary, or than was required to rout 
 the wandering bands. 
 
 They rode through regions so desolate where sometimes, 
 for days at a time they never saw a human soul. The little 
 towns lay in ashes, the villages were burned down and deso- 
 late, their inhabitants killed or taken into slavery. They 
 found nothing on their way but corpses, ruins of houses and 
 churches, smoking remains of villages, and howling dogs 
 upon the ashes. Whoever had survived the Tartar-Cossack 
 invasion, crept away into the depths o^ the forest and endured 
 cold and hunger, not daring to come out of the forests for 
 fear the danger might not be over yet. Yolodiyovski fed his 
 horse on the bark of trees, or cobs of half burned corn, which 
 they picked up amid the ruins of what had been granaries; 
 but they hurried forward seeking their subsistence chiefly in 
 the provisions which they took from the marauding com- 
 panies. It was already the end of October and in proportion 
 as the former winter, much to the astonishment of all, had 
 passed without snow, frost, or ice. this winter was more severe 
 than usual. The whole course of Xature seemed changed. 
 The earth was frozen hard, snow lay upon the plains; and, 
 
 578 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 579 
 
 along the margin of the rivers, a thin coating of ice could be 
 seen in the mornings. The weather was dry, the pale sun- 
 beams gave a little warmth at midday, but morning and even- 
 ing a dark red glow was seen in the sky, the sure sign of an 
 early and severe winter. 
 
 In addition to war and famine, a third deadly enemy threat- 
 ened the wretched people — frost; and, yet, everyone looked 
 for it longingly; as it was a far surer impediment to war than 
 any negotiations. Pan Volodiyovski, as a man of experience 
 and one who knew the Ukraine thoroughly, was full of hope 
 that the expedition to find the princess would surely be suc- 
 cessful; for the chief hindrance, the war, had been removed 
 for some time. 
 
 "I do not believe in Khmyelnitski's sincerity," he said, "or 
 whether he is returning to the Ukraine out of love for the 
 king, or from the cunning of a fox. He knows that the Cos- 
 sacks are good for nothing if they cannot fight behind earth- 
 works. And in the open field, although they were five times 
 our number, they could not stand against our regiments. 
 They are now going into winter quarters and will drive "the 
 herds into the snow. The Tartars also want time to drive 
 their captives home. If the winter is severe, we shall have 
 peace until the grass is green once more." 
 
 "Perhaps longer, for they certainly respect the king's au- 
 thority; but we do not need so much time. God willing, we 
 shall arrange Skshetuski's wedding for Shrovetide." 
 
 "If only we do not miss him now, that would be a fresh 
 trouble." 
 
 "He has three regiments with him, so it will not be like 
 looking for one grain in a bushel; perhaps we may overtake 
 him before we reach Zbaraj, if he is detained anywhere among 
 the haydamaks." 
 
 "We cannot overtake him, but we ought to hear something 
 about him on the road," answered Volodiyovski. 
 
 This, however, was not easy, for the peasants had seen regi- 
 ments passing by, had heard of encounters with the maraud- 
 ers; but no one could tell whose men they were, as they might 
 have been Rogovski's men just as easily as Skshetuski's. The 
 two friends had no certainty in the matter. But they heard 
 definite news of the defeat of the Cossacks by the Lithuanian 
 soldiers. The rumor was already taking shape on the eve of 
 Volodiyovski's journey from Warsaw, but it was doubted at 
 first. Now the news with all details was circulated through 
 
58o WITH FIRE A\D SWORD. 
 
 the whole country as an ahsolute certainty. The Lithuanian 
 victory made up for the defeat of the royal forces hy TChmyel- 
 nitski. Polksienjyts and savage Nehaba had lost their heads, 
 and the still more redoubtable Kshechovski who, instead of a 
 Starostship and a Voyevodaship and other honors, had earned 
 impalement among the ranks of the rebels. It seemed as 
 though a strange Xemesis had avenged the German blood 
 which he had shed in killing colonels Flick and Werner in 
 the reeds of the Dnieper, for he fell into the hands of the 
 German regiment Radzivil. Although sorely wounded, he 
 was dragged away to the stake, upon which the unfortunate 
 man lingered in agony the whole day long before he finally 
 gave up his black soul. This was the end of one who, through 
 his courage and warlike genius might have become a second 
 Stefan Khmyelnitski; but whose insatiable desire for wealth 
 and position led him into treachery and perjury and in the 
 end sent him to the most frightful of deaths, a death fit for 
 KshjTonos himself. 
 
 Polksienjyts and Xebaba who were with him, had lost al- 
 most twenty thoiisand Cossacks on the field of battle, all who 
 had not perished in the swamps of the Prypets. Fear spread 
 like a storm-wind across the thriving Ukraine, for all believed 
 that after the great triumphs at the Zolta Woda, Korsun and 
 Pilavyets, a time of defeat had arrived, similar to those which 
 the rebels had experienced at Solonits and Kumeyka. Khmy- 
 elnitski himself, although at the height of his fame and more 
 powerful than ever, vacillated when he heard of the death 
 of his friend Kshechovski and began anew to seek for knowl- 
 edge of the future among the fortune-tellers. They prophe- 
 sied various things, among others, that a new war would take 
 place; they spoke of conquests and defeats — ^but could not tell 
 the hetman what would happen to him personally. 
 
 Through Kshechovski's death and on account of the winter, 
 the truce was of longer duration; the country began to settle 
 down; the devastated villages were once more inhabited and 
 confidence returned to all the despairing and troubled hearts. 
 
 With the aid of this confidence, after a long and difficult 
 journey, our two friends arrived happily in Zbaraj, where, 
 after announcing themselves at the castle, they at once went 
 to the commandant, in whom, to their great astonishment, 
 they recognized Yyershul. 
 
 "And where is Skshetuski?" Zagloba asked, after the first 
 greetings were over. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 581 
 
 "He is uot here," answered Vyershul. 
 
 "Have you the command of the garrison?" 
 
 "Yes. Skshetuski was in command, but he went away and 
 left me as commandant until his return." 
 
 "And when did he promise to return?" 
 
 "He did not say; indeed he did not know himself, but he 
 said when he left, 'if any one should come for me, tell them 
 to wait for me here.' " 
 
 Zagloba and Volodiyovski looked at one another. 
 
 "How long has he been gone?" asked Pan Michael. 
 
 "Ten days." 
 
 "Pan Volodiyovski," said Zagloba, "let Pan Vyershul give 
 us some supper, for we cannot take council on hungry stom- 
 achs; we will continue our conversation at the supper table." 
 
 "I am only too delighted to wait on. you, gentlemen, for I 
 am just going to sit down to table myself. Besides, Pan 
 Volodiyovski, as my superior officer, will now take the com- 
 mand, so I am his guest and not he mine." 
 
 "Keep the command, Pan Kryshtof,' said Volodiyovski, 
 "for you are older than I am and, besides, I must leave again 
 soon." 
 
 It was not long before supper was ready. They sat down 
 and ate and drank with enjoyment; and, after Zagloba had 
 somewhat satisfied his hunger, with two plates of soup he said 
 to Vyershul: 
 
 "You have no idea. Sir, where Pan Skshetuski is gone ?" 
 
 Vyershul ordered the servants to leave the room and, after 
 a moment's reflection, he said: 
 
 "I have an idea, but Skshetuski is very anxious to keep the 
 matter a secret, and that is why I would not speak before the 
 servants. He took advantage of a favorable opportunity — for 
 we shall probably remain here quietly until the spring — and 
 in my opinion has gone to look for the princess, who is in 
 Bohun's hands." 
 
 "Bohun is no longer alive," said Zagloba. 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 Zagloba now related for the third or fourth time all that 
 had happened; for he always enjoyed telling it. 
 
 Vyershul, like Longin, could not sufficiently express his 
 astonishment, and finally said: 
 
 "Well, then, it will be easier for Pan Skshetuski." 
 
 "It just depends on whether he finds her. Did he take any 
 men with him?" 
 
582 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 "No one, he rode alone, with one little Russian boy and 
 three horses." 
 
 "Then he set to work prudently, for one can do nothing 
 there except with cunning. One might get as far as Kamenets 
 with a regiment, but in Ush3'ts and Mohilov there are noth- 
 ing but Cossacks. There are good winter-quarters there. 
 There is a nest of them in Yampol, and one must go there 
 either with a whole division or quite alone." 
 
 "But how do you know that he has gone into that region?" 
 asked Vyershul. 
 
 "Because she is hidden somewhere behind Yampol and he 
 knew that; but there are so many glens, hollows, and bush 
 that it would be hard enough to find her if one knew the 
 exact spot; and how much harder when one does not know. 
 I rode to Yahorlik with horses, and also to a council, that is 
 how I know. If I were with him, it might be more easy; but 
 as he is alone, I doubt very much if he finds her, unless some 
 accident should show him the way, for he would not dare to 
 ask any one." i 
 
 "Then, you, gentlemen, wished to accompany him?" 
 
 "Yes. But what shall we do now, Pan Michael, shall we 
 follow him or not?" 
 
 "I leave that to your good judgment." 
 
 "H'm! ten days have passed since he left — ^we cannot over- 
 take him, and besides, he said we were to wait for him. God 
 knows what way he may have taken; he may have followed the 
 old highway, that leads through Ploskir and Bar, or he may 
 have gone by way of Kamenets Podolski. It is hard to de- 
 cide." 
 
 "Remember, also, gentlemen, that there are only surmises 
 and we have no certainty that he has gone to look for the 
 princess." 
 
 "That's just it, thaf s just it," said Zagloba. "He may have 
 only gone to get information, and then return to Zbaraj, for 
 he knew that we would go with him and he may be expecting 
 us just at this time. It is a diffieult matter." 
 
 "I would ad-s-ise you to wait ten days," said Yyershul. 
 
 "Ten days is nothing. Shall we wait or not?" 
 
 "I think perhaps we had better not wait, for what should 
 we lose by setting out to-morrow? If Skshetuski does not find 
 the princess, perhaps God will give us better luck." 
 
 "See here, Pan Michael, we cannot undertake this thing 
 without due consideration. You are young and anxious for 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. -g, 
 
 adventure," said Zagloba, "but there is a danger; for if he is 
 looking for her alone, and we are also looking for her, it might 
 easily arouse suspicion among the people in that neighbor- 
 hood. The Cossack people are sly and fear that any one may 
 discover their plans. They may be arranging with the Pasha, 
 whose territory borders on Khotsim, or with the Tartars be- 
 yond the Dnieper for a war — who can tell? In that case they 
 will keep a watchful eye on strangers and, especially, on any 
 who may be asking their way. I know them; we might easily 
 betray ourselves, and what then?' 
 
 "Well, it would be all the more. easy for Skshetuski to fall 
 into some trap, and we ought to hasten to his assistance," 
 
 "That is very Jrue." 
 
 Zagloba sank into deep thought, so that his temples 
 twitched. Presently he roused himself and said: 
 
 "Taking everything into consideration, I think we ought 
 to set out." 
 
 Volodiyovski breathed freely. 
 
 "And when?" 
 
 "After we have rested here about three days, so that we 
 may be fresh in body and soul." 
 
 The following day, the two friends began their prepara- 
 tions for the journey, but, suddenly and quite unexpectedly, 
 the evening before they were to start, Skshetuski's boy, the 
 young Cossack Cyga arrived with news and letters for Vyer- 
 shul. When Zagloba and Volodiyovski heard of it they went 
 at once to the commandant's quarters and read what follows: 
 
 "I am in Kamenets whence the road through Satanov is 
 safe. I am going to Yahorlik with Armenian merchants to 
 whom Pan Bukovski directed me. They have Tartar and 
 Cossack safe-conducts which will insure them a safe Journey 
 as far as Akerman. We are going to TJshyts, Mohilov, and 
 Yampol, with silks, stopping in every place where there is the 
 slightest trace of life. Perhaps God will help us to find what 
 we seek. Tell my comrades, Volodiyovski and Pan Zagloba, 
 to wait for me in Zbaraj if they have nothing else to do; for 
 the road I have left behind me cannot be travelled by large 
 numbers on account of the great mistrust of the Cossacks, 
 who are wintering in Yampol and along the Dniester to Ya- 
 gorlik, and have turned their horses out in the snow. What 
 I cannot do by myself, three of us could not do, and I can 
 easily get through a«' as an Armenian. I thank you, Pan 
 Kryshtof, from my whole soul for your decision, which I shall 
 
584 
 
 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 never forget as long as I live. But I could not wait for her 
 any longer, for I passed every day in torture. I could not tell 
 whether they would come, and this was just the time to set 
 out, when all the merchants are setting out to buy candied 
 fruits and silk stuSs. I am sending back my faithful boy. 
 Take him under your protection; I have no need of him and 
 I am afraid that as he is so young he may chatter about our 
 affairs. Pan Bukovski vouches for those merchants that they 
 are honest, and I beUeve it. In the belief that everything 
 rests in the hands of the Almighty, who, if He will, may 
 show us His mercy and shorten our tortures. Amen." 
 
 Pan Zagloba, after reading the letter through, looked at 
 his companions, who were silent. At last, Vyershul said: 
 
 "1 suspected that he had gone there." 
 
 "And what remains for us to do?" asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 '"WeU, what?" said Zagloba, shrugging his shoulders. 
 "There is nothing for us to do there. I am glad that he is 
 travelling -a-iiih the merchants, for he can spy round every- 
 where without any one being suspicious. They will buy some- 
 thing in every cabin and every country-house, for half the 
 Commonwealth has been plundered. It would be difBcult for 
 us. Pan Michael, to get beyond Yampol. SkshetusM is as 
 dark as a Wallach, and could easily pass for an Armenian; 
 you would easily be recognized by your flaxen moustache. 
 Even a peasant's disguise would not be of much use. . . God 
 bless him! We are of no use there, I must confess, although I 
 am sorry to think that we cannot lift a hand to rescue that 
 poor child. However, we have done Skshetuski a great ser- 
 vice in killing Bohun; for, if he were alive, I would not an- 
 swer for Yan's life." 
 
 Volodiyovski was much disappointed, he had looked for- 
 ward to a journey full of adventure, and, now, he had the 
 prospect of a tedious sojourn in Zbaraj. 
 
 "Perhaps we can ride to Kamenets," he said. 
 
 "And what would we do there, what should we live on?" 
 answered Zagloba. It does not make any difference within 
 what walls we vegetate, we must wait in any case! for such 
 a journey will take Skshetuski a long time. A man remains 
 young as long as he is occupied" — (here Zagloba let his head 
 droop in a melancholy manner) — "and he grows old in inac- 
 tion, but what is to be done? . Let him go without us. 
 To-morrow we will have a solemn mass said that God may 
 give him good luck. We have killed Bobun — ^that is the 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 585 
 
 principal thing. Let the horses be unsaddled, Pan Michael — 
 we must wait." 
 
 The following morning, long, monotonous days of expecta- 
 tion began for the two friends; and neither drinking mead 
 nor throwing dice was able to enliven them; they stretched 
 out endlessly. The severe winter made itself felt; snow, two 
 feet deep, covered everything like a shroud, the roofs of 
 Zbaraj as well as the whole earth. Wild animals and flocks of 
 birds approached human habitations. All day long was heard 
 the croaking of innumerable flocks of crows and ravens. De- 
 cember passed, January, February^ — -and still no news of 
 Skshetuski. Zagloba became melancholy and declared he 
 was growing old. 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 The commissioners who had been sent by the Common- 
 wealth to carry on negotiations with Khmyelnitski, finally 
 made their way to Xovosiolek amid the greatest difficulties; 
 and remained there waiting for an answer from the victorious 
 hetman^ who during this time remained in Chigrin. They 
 waited sadly and anxiously for, during their whole journey, 
 they had been exposed to death; and their difficulties in- 
 creased at every step. They were continually surrounded, by 
 night as by day, by swarms of "blacks," who had become per- 
 fectly savage from war and slaughter, and howled for the 
 death of the commissioners. From time to time they came 
 upon bands without a leader, consisting of murderous and 
 savage herders, who had not the slightest conception of the 
 law of the land and thirsted for blood and booty. The com- 
 missioners had indeed an escort of a hundred horse, com- 
 manded by Pan Bryshovski and, besides that, Elhmyelnitski, 
 foreseeing what might occur to them, had sent Colonel Don- 
 yets to protect them with four hundred Cossacks. But the 
 escort might at any time prove insufficient, for the crowd of 
 "blacks" increased every hour and assumed an ever more 
 threatening attitude; and whoever wandered for a moment 
 from the train, or from his regiment, disappeared forever. 
 They were like a handful of travellers surrounded by a herd 
 of hungry wolves. Thus, whole days and weeks passed until 
 one night in camp at Novosiolek they all believed that their 
 last hour had come. The company of dragoons and the es- 
 cort under Donyets had been carrying on a regular battle 
 to protect the lives of the commissioners, who were already 
 saying their prayers and commending their souls to God. The 
 Carmelite I^entovski gave them absolution, one after another, 
 while, from outside, each gust of air brought frightful cries, 
 firing, hellish laughter, the clash of scythes, and cries of death 
 and destruction, as well as demands for the head of the Voye- 
 voda Kisiel, who was an especial object of their hatred. 
 
 It was a long, dreadful, winter night. The Voyevoda Kisiel 
 586 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 587 
 
 sat motionless for several hours, his head buried in his hands. 
 He did not fear death, for since the time he left Hushch he 
 was so exhausted, so weary and sleepless, that he would have 
 gladly stretched out his arms to death — ^but his soul was filled 
 with boundless despair. Was it not he who as a Russian in 
 blood and bone had first undertaken the role of a peacemaker 
 in this unexampled war; was it not he who, everywhere, in 
 the Senate and at the councils, had stepped forward as the 
 most zealous advocate of negotiations; he, who had supported 
 the policy of the chancellor and the Primate; he, who had 
 condemned most fiercely Prince Yeremy; who had worked 
 in good faith for the welfare of the Cossack people and of the 
 Commonwealth, and had believed, with the whole might of 
 his earnest soul, that negotiations and concessions would set- 
 tle everything, soothe and heal the bleeding wounds. And 
 now, at the very moment that he was taking the baton and 
 the concessions for the Cossacks to Khmyelnitski, he de- 
 spaired of everything — ^for he saw with his own eyes the 
 futility of his exertions, and beheld before him emptiness 
 and an abyss. 
 
 Did they then demand nothing but blood, desire no other 
 freedom than the freedom to rob and burn, thought the Voye- 
 voda, suppressing the groan that sought to escape from his 
 noble heart. 
 
 "The head of Kisiel! the head of Kisiel! and destruction 
 to him," was the answer to his thoughts from the mob. 
 
 And the Voyevoda would willingly have sacrificed his white, 
 careworn head, if one last spark of belief had not restrained 
 him. The belief that something else was needed for their 
 salvation and that of all the Cossacks, as well as for the wel- 
 fare of the Commonwealth. Let the future teach them how 
 to demand that. 
 
 And as he thought of this, a ray of hope and a certain 
 amount of confidence lightened for a moment the darkness 
 with which despair had clouded his soul, and the unhappy old 
 man persuaded himself that these "blacks" did not represent 
 the whole Cossack people, not even Khmyelnitski and his 
 colonels, and that negotiations must be entered into with 
 him. 
 
 But would they be lasting so long as half a million of 
 rabble were under arms; would they not be disregarded at the 
 first breath of spring and vanish like the snow which now lav 
 on the steppes? .... Here he thought of the words of 
 
588 
 
 WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Prince Yeremy: "One can show mercy only to the con- 
 quered," and again his thoughts became gloomy and again 
 the abyss opened at his feet. 
 
 It was past midnight; the noise and the confusion had 
 lessened, but the storm outside was raging more fiercely, and 
 the snow was forming drifts. The weary rabble scattered in 
 the various houses, and hope returned to the commissioners' 
 breasts. Voytsiekh Miashovski, the under-Chamberlain of 
 Lemburg, rose from the bench on which he was sitting, list- 
 ened at the window which was covered with snow and said: 
 
 "It seems to me that we shall, with God's help, survive until 
 the morning." 
 
 "Perhaps Kimyelnitski may send us h larger escort, for we 
 cannot get to him with this one," said Sniarovski. 
 
 ZielansM, the Cup-Bearer of Bratslav, laughed bitterly. 
 
 "Who would take us for peace commissioners?" 
 
 "I was sent repeatedly as an envoy to the Tartars," said 
 the standard bearer of Novogorod, "but in all my life I never 
 made such a mission as this. In our person, the Common- 
 wealth is suffering more humiliation than she underwent at 
 Korsun and Pilavyets. I tell you, gentlemen, we ought to 
 turn back, for there can be no question of negotiations." 
 
 "Let us turn back," repeated Bjozovski, the Castellan of 
 Kiev. "As we cannot have peace, let us have -n-arl" 
 
 Kisiel raised his brows and fixed his glassy eyes on the 
 Castellan. 
 
 "The Zolta Woda, Korsun, and Pilavyets," he said gloomily. 
 
 And they were all silent until Kulchinski, the Treasurer 
 of Kiev, began to tell his beads aloud, and the ]Master-of-the- 
 Hounds Kshetovski put his hands to his head and repeated: 
 
 "What dreadful times! what dreadful times! God have 
 mercy on us!" . . . . 
 
 The door was here opened and BryshovsM the dragoon 
 captain of the Bishop of Posen, who was looking for shelter, 
 stepped into the room. 
 
 "Illustrious Voyevoda," he said, "a Cossack desires an aud- 
 ience." 
 
 "That is well," answered Kisiel, "have the ^blacks' already 
 scattered?" 
 
 "They have gone, but to-morow thev will come again." 
 
 "Did they attack you badly?" 
 
 "Frightfully, but Donyets's Cossacks killed several of them. 
 To-morrow they are going to burn us out." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 589 
 
 "Well, let the Cossack come in." 
 
 Presently the door was opened and a tall, black-bearded 
 form stood on the threshold. 
 
 "Who art thou?" asked Kisiel. 
 
 "Yan Skshetuski, lieutenant of the Hussars of the Prince 
 Voyevoda of Eussia." 
 
 The Castellan Bjorzovski, Kulchinski, and the Master-of- 
 the-Hounds Kshetovski sprang from their seats. They had 
 all served the year before under the prince, and had been at 
 Makhnovka and Konstantinov and knew Pan Yan well, and 
 Kshetovski was even related to him. 
 
 "Can it be! Is it true! then you are Pan Skshetuski?" 
 
 "What are you doing here, how did you get here?" asked 
 Kshetovski, putting his arms around him. 
 
 "In the disguise of a peasant as you see," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "Illustrious Voyevoda," cried the Castellan Bjozovski, "this 
 is the bravest knight of the regim,ents of the Voyevoda of 
 Eussia, celebrated in the whole army." 
 
 "I greet him with a joyful heart," said Kisiel, "he must be 
 a very determined knight to have managed to get as far as 
 this." Then, turning to Skshetuski: 
 
 "What is your request from us?" 
 
 "That you will permit me to travel with you, gentlemen." 
 
 "You are putting yourself into the jaws of the dragon, but 
 if you wish it we have no objection." 
 
 Skshetuski bowed in silence. 
 
 Kisiel looked at him in astonishment. He was struck by 
 the earnestness and sorrow in the stern face of the young 
 knight. 
 
 "Tell me. Sir," he asked, "what motive drives you into that 
 hell which no one visits voluntarily?" 
 
 "Unhappiness, illustrious Voyevoda." 
 
 "That was a useless question," said Kisiel. "You have lost 
 someone you love and wish to seek them there?" 
 
 "That is it." 
 
 "Is it long since?" 
 
 "Since last spring." 
 
 "What! and you have only now started out to find them? 
 It is almost a year! What have you been doing all this time?" 
 
 "I have been fighting under the Voyevoda of Eussia." 
 
 "Would not that magnanimous master grant you leave?" 
 
 "I Tv6uH not take it." 
 
 Kisiel looked once more at the young knight and there was 
 a silence, which was interrupted by the castellan of Kiev. 
 
g„0 WITH FIRE AXD t<nORD. 
 
 "All of us who have served under the prince know of this 
 j'oung cavalier's misfortune; we have all shed tears over him, 
 and we often regretted that he preferred to serve his country 
 as long as the war lasted, instead of thinking of his own hap- 
 piness. But it was only the more praiseworthy; he has set a 
 rare example in these degenerate times." 
 
 "If it prove that my word has any weight with Khmyel- 
 nitski, helieve me, sir, I will hespeak his kindness in your un- 
 dertaking," said Kisiel. 
 
 Skshetuski bowed again. 
 
 "Go and rest now," said the Yoyevoda, graciously, "you 
 must be very tired, as we all are, for we have not had a 
 moment's re.st.'' 
 
 "I will take him to my room, he is a relative," said the 
 Master of the Hounds Kshetovski. 
 
 "Let us go and take some rest also," said Bjozovski, "as we 
 do not know if we shall get any sleep to-morrow night." 
 
 "Perhaps an everlasting sleep," answered the Voyevoda. 
 
 Then he retired to his room, at the door of which his boy 
 was awaiting him, and the others also retired. Kshetovski 
 took SkshetnsH into his quarters, which were only a few 
 doors away; the boy lighted them with a lantern. 
 
 "How dark the night is, the snow is is falling harder than 
 ever," said the Master of the Hounds. "Ah, Pan Yan, what 
 hours we have passed through to-day! I thought that our 
 last hour had come. The 'blacks' had almost placed their 
 knives at our throats. BryshovsM had lost courage and we 
 were beginning to take leave of each other." 
 
 "I was among them," answered Skshetuski. "To-morrow 
 evening, they expect a new band of murderers whom they 
 have informed of your presence here. To-morrow, we must 
 set out, no matter what happens. You are going to Eliev, are 
 you not?" 
 
 "That depends on Khmyelnitski's answer which Prince 
 ChetvertynsM has gone to obtain. This is my room, step in, 
 Pan Yan. I ordered some wine to be heated and we will for- 
 tify ourselves before going to sleep." 
 
 They stepped into the room, where a mighty fire burned in 
 the chimney; the steaming wine was standing on the table. 
 Skshetuski eagerly reached for a glass. 
 
 "I have touched nothing since yesterday," he said. 
 
 "You look wretched, it is easy to see that you are wasted 
 by sorrow and fatigue. But tell me about yourself, for I know 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. jgi 
 
 your affairs. You intend, then, to seek the princess among 
 those people?" 
 
 "To seek her, or death," answered the knight. 
 
 "You will sooner find your death. How do you know that 
 the princess is there at all?" asked the Master of the Hounds. 
 
 "Because I have already I'ooked for her elsewhere." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Along the Dniester, as far as Yahorlik. I travelled with 
 some Armenian merchants, for I had proofs that she was hid- 
 den there. I have been everywhere, and now I am going to 
 Kiev because Bohun is said to have taken her there." 
 
 Skshetuski had scarcely mentioned Bohun's name, when 
 the Master of the Hounds raised both hands and clasped his 
 head. 
 
 "By God!" he cried. "I have not told you the most im- 
 portant thing. I heard that Bohun was killed." 
 
 Skshetuski turned pale. 
 
 "What?" he said. "Who said so?" 
 
 "That nobleman who had already rescued the princess and 
 who fought so bravely at Konstantinov. I met him as he was 
 riding to Zamost; we passed each other on the road. Almost 
 before I had asked him what news he had, he answered that 
 Bohuh was dead. 'Who killed him?' I asked. He answered, 
 'I did' — and we separated." 
 
 The color which had mounted into Skshetuski's face sud- 
 denly paled. 
 
 "That nobleman," he said, "is always joking. One cannot 
 believe him; no, no, he cannot possibly have killed Bohun." 
 
 "And did you not see him. Pan Yan? For I remember that 
 he said he was going to Zamost to see you." 
 
 "I did not expect him in Zamost, he must now be in Zbaraj. 
 But I was in a hurry to overtake the commissioners, so I did 
 not come from Kamenets by way of Zbaraj and have not seen 
 him at all. God only knows if all that he told me about her 
 that time was true. He pretends that while Bohun had him 
 prisoner he overheard that he had hidden her behind Yam- 
 pol, and was then going to take her to Kiev for the marriage 
 ceremony. Perhops there is no more truth in that than in 
 anything else that Zagloba says." 
 
 "Why do you want to go to Kiev?" 
 
 Skshetuski did not reply and, for a time, no sound but the 
 howling of the wind was to be heard. • 
 
 "For," said the Master of the Hounds, putting his finger on 
 
592 WITH FIRE AND l^iWORD. 
 
 Ms forehead, "if Bohun is not dead you would fall into his 
 hands." 
 
 "I am going there to find him,"' answered Skshetuski 
 gloomilv. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "God shall decide between us." 
 
 "But he will not fight with you, but wiU put you in chains 
 at once and kill you or sell you to the Tartars." 
 
 "I shall go with the commissioners, under their protec- 
 tion." 
 
 "God grant that we may manage to keep our own heads 
 out of the noose, and how can we talk of the protection we 
 grant!" 
 
 "If it is hard to live, it will be easy to die." 
 
 "Have mercy on yourself, Yan; for in this ease it is not a 
 question of death only, for no one can escape that, but they 
 may sell you to the Turkish galleys." 
 
 "Do you think so, Pan Kshetovskd? Do you think that it 
 will be worse for me than it is now?" 
 
 "I see you are in despair, you have no confidence in God's 
 mercy." 
 
 "You are mistaken, sir. I say that it fares badly with me 
 on earth, but, by God's help, I have been reconciled long ago. 
 I desire nothing, do not complain, do not curse, do not run 
 my head against a wall; I only try to fulfill what seems to be 
 my duty, as long as life and strength hold out." 
 
 "But sorrow is wasting you like a poison." 
 
 "God gave the sorrow that it might waste me and will send 
 a remedy when he sees fit." 
 
 "That is an unanswerable argument," said the blaster of 
 the Hounds. "God alone can help you; our hope for our- 
 selves and for the Commonwealth rests in Him. The King 
 has gone to Chenstohovo. Perhaps he will entreat the most 
 Holy Virgin for us; otherwise we are lost." 
 
 A silence ensued, broken only by the challenge of the 
 dragoons outside, "Wer da!" 
 
 "Yes, yes," said the Master of the Hounds after some time, 
 "we all belong more to the dead than to the living, the people 
 of this Commonwealth have forgotten how to laugh, they 
 only sigh, like the wind in the chimney; but I believed that 
 better times would come, before I set out to come here with 
 the others. I see now that my hope was unfounded; ruins, 
 war, hunger, and death — nothing else, nothing else." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. rg-, 
 
 Skshetuski was silent, the flames which darted from the 
 hearth up the chimney lighted up his stern emaciated face. 
 Presently he raised his head and said earnestly: 
 
 "All is transitory; all passes, vanishes, and nothing re- 
 mains." 
 
 "You spealc like a monk," said the Master of the Hounds. 
 
 Skshetuski did not answer. The wind moaned ever more 
 sadly in the chimney. 
 
 38 
 
CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 The following morning the commissioners, accompanied hy 
 Skshetuski, left Xovosiolek. It was a melancholy journey, 
 for, at every halting place, in every little town, they were 
 threatened with death, and everywhere met with insults that 
 were worse than death; more particularly as the commis- 
 sioners in their person and office, represented the majesty of 
 the Commonwealth. Pan Kisiel became ill and they had to 
 carry him in his sleigh into all the inns where they stopped 
 for the night and into the houses and bakeries. The Under- 
 Chamberlain of Lemburg shed tears at the insults to himself 
 and to the fathe"rland; Captain Bryshovski also fell ill from 
 annoyance at the abuse they received and from their fatigues; 
 so Skshetuski took his place and led the unfortunate caval- 
 cade farther into the crowds of rebels; amid insults, threats, 
 rough treatment, and fighting. 
 
 In Byalogrod it seemed as though the last hour had come 
 for the commissioners. The mob beat Bryshovski, who was 
 sick, killed Pan Jniazdovski and, nothing but the arrival of 
 the metropolitan, to hold an interview with the Voyevoda, 
 prevented the intended slaughter. In Kiev, they would not 
 allow the commissioners to enter the town. On the eleventh 
 of February, Prince Chetvertynski returned without an an- 
 swer from Khmyelnitski. The commissioners did not know 
 what to do or in what direction to turn. If they returned, 
 they would leave behind them the enormous bands of peas- 
 antry who were waiting only for the breaking off of negotia- 
 tions to murder the embassy. The mob became bolder; they 
 seized the bridles of the dragoons' horses, blocked their way, 
 threw stones, pieces of ice, and frozen snow-balls into the 
 Yoyevoda's sleigh. In Gvozdova, Skshetuski and Donyets 
 were obliged to fight a bloody battle, in which they routed 
 several hundred of the "blacks." The soldiers of Xovogorod 
 and Sniarovski rode again to Khmyelnitski, to represent to 
 him that he should come to Kiev for further negotiations. 
 But the Voyevoda had little hope that they would reach him 
 
 594 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. ^g^ 
 
 alive. In Khvastova, the commissioners were obliged to re- 
 main inactive and look on, while the people killed prisoners 
 of both sexes. They drowned them in holes in the ice, poured 
 water over them in the icy air, thrust them with hay-forks, 
 and flayed them alive with their knives. Eighteen such days 
 had passed, before an answer finally came from Khmyelnit- 
 ski, saying that he would not go to Kiev, but would wait in 
 Pereyaslav for the Voyevoda and the commissioners. The 
 unfortunate envoys breathed freely once more, in the hope 
 that their tortures were now at an end; and, after they had 
 crossed the Dnieper at Tripol, they went for the night to 
 Voronkov, which was only six miles from Pereyaslav. Khmy- 
 elnitskicame half a mile on the road to meet them, apparently 
 out of respect for the royal embassy. How he had changed 
 from the time «rhen he had exalted himself in order to avenge 
 the supposed insult — "quantum mutatus ab illo !" as the Voye- 
 voda of Kisiel justly wrote. 
 
 He came with a number of horses, with officers, sergeants 
 and military music, with the bunchuk and red uniform as 
 though he were a ruling prince. The commissioners' suite at 
 once stopped; but Khmyelnitski sprang forward to the fore- 
 most sleigh in which sat the Voyevoda, looked for a time into 
 his reverend countenance, raised his fur cap slightly, and 
 said: 
 
 "I greet you. Pan Commissioners, and you, Voyevoda. You 
 should" have undertaken to negotiate with me earlier, when I 
 was less important and did not know my own strength; but, 
 as the king sends you to me, I will receive you Joyfully into 
 my country." 
 
 "We greet you, hetman," answered Kisiel. "His Majesty, 
 the Eling, sends us to inform you of his forgiveness, and to 
 grant you the justice you seek." 
 
 "For the forgiveness, I thank him, and the justice I have 
 already obtained myself, by holding this" — ^here he tapped 
 his sword, "at your necks, and I will continue to procure it, 
 if you do not give me satisfaction." 
 
 "You do not receive us very graciously, Hetman of the 
 Zaporojians, as ambassadors of the King." 
 
 "I will not negotiate with the snow on the ground; but at 
 a more convenient time," answered Khmyelnitski, roughly. 
 "Let me get into your sleigh, Kisiel, and then I will do you 
 the honor of driving with you." 
 
 As he said this, he dismounted and approached the sleigh. 
 
5g6 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Kisiel, however, moved over to the right side, leaving the left 
 ifree for Khmyehiitski. 
 
 When he saw this he frowned and said: 
 
 "Let me sit at the right side." 
 
 "I am a senator of the Commonwealth." 
 
 "What do I care for that. Pan Pototski is the first senator 
 and Crown hetman, and I hold him a prisoner and will let 
 him go when I see fit; perhaps to-morrow, with some others, 
 to he impaled. 
 
 Kisiel's pale cheeks flushed. 
 
 "I represent the king in my person."' 
 
 Khm3'elnitski"s face lowered, but he restrained himself and 
 sat down at the left of Kisiel, murmuring: 
 
 "He may be king in Warsaw, but I am king in Eussia. I 
 have not yet humbled you enough, I see." 
 
 Kisiel did not reply, but raised his eyes to heaven. He had 
 a foretaste of what awaited him, and he thought rightly that 
 if the way to Khmyelnitski was a Golgotha, a sojourn with 
 him was martyrdom itself. 
 
 The horses hastened to the town, twenty shots were fired 
 from th- cannon and all the bells rang. Khmyelnitski, as 
 though he wanted to prevent the commissioners from con- 
 sidering the salute as an exceptional honor granted to him, 
 said t ) the Voyevoda: 
 
 "I have received not only you, but other ambassadors sent 
 to me, in the same manner." 
 
 And Khmyelnitski spoke the truth. Ambassadors had been 
 sent to him as though he were a reigninc prince. On his re- 
 turn from Zamost, while he was yet impressed by the election 
 and by the defeats he had suffered from the Lithuanian army, 
 the hetman did not possess half his present pride, but since 
 Kiev had received him with torches and flags; since the acad- 
 emy had greeted him in the following words: "Tanquam 
 Moisem, servatorem, sahatorptn, liberctorem populi de servifute 
 lechica ct bono amine Bogdan — ^by the Grace of God!" and, 
 when they finally called him "lUustrissimus Princeps'^ "there 
 was aroused the beast in him, according to the word of one 
 of his contemporaries. He actually felt his own power on a 
 firm footing, which he had hitherto lacked. 
 
 The embassy was a tacit recognition, not only of his power 
 but also of his sovereignty. The faithful friendship of the 
 Tartars, which he had bought by an abvmdance of booty and 
 many unfortunate prisoners; which this leader of the people 
 
WITB FIRE AND 8W0BD. ^7 
 
 had allowed them to pick from among the people, was an as- 
 surance of assistance against every enemy. Consequently, 
 Khmyelnitski, who at Zamost had bowed to the royal majesty 
 and to the will of the monarch, was now blinded with pride; 
 and, convinced of his own strength, of the disorder in the 
 Commonwealth and of the inefficiency of her leaders, was now 
 ready to lift his hand even against the king. His ambitious 
 soul was already dreaming, not of the independence of the 
 Cossacks, not of the restoration of the former privileges of the 
 Zaporojians, not of justice for himself; but of a sovereign 
 state, in which he would wear the prince's cap and bear the 
 sceptre. 
 
 And he felt himself master in the Ukraine. Zaporoj 
 stood by him, for, under no commander had it been so 
 swamped with blood and booty. The naturally savage people 
 thronged to him, for while the Mazovians and the Vielkopol- 
 ska bore without murmuring that burden of authority and 
 oppression which all over Europe rests on "Ham's descend- 
 ants," the Ukraine peasant breathed in with the air of the 
 steppes such an intense, passionate love of freedom as could 
 flourish nowhere else but in the wide steppes. How could he 
 follow his master's plow, when his glance was bounded by 
 God's, and not by man's, desert; when, from beyond the 
 rapids, Sich called to him, "leave your masters, come to free- 
 dom;" when the cruel Tartar had taught him to fight, and his 
 eyes had become accustomed to the smoke of the cannon and 
 to slaughter, and his ha^^ds to handling firearms? Why not 
 rather raid with Khmyelnitski and snap his fingers at his 
 masters, than bend his proud back before a sub-governor. 
 
 And another reason why the people flocked to Khmyelnit- 
 ski was, that whoever did not do so was made prisoner. In 
 Stambul, they gave ten cartridges for one slave and three 
 slaves for one bow seasoned in the fire, so plentiful were they. 
 The rabble had no choice, a curious song descended from the 
 memory of those times and was long sung by subsequent gen- 
 erations around their fires, a curious song about that leader 
 who was called the Moses of the Zaporojians. 
 
 "Oh, that the first, best bullet might not miss this 
 Khmel!" 
 
 The towns, the villages and the hamlets disappeared; the 
 land was changed into a desert and a ruin — a wound which 
 centuries could not heal. But that leader and hetman did not 
 or would not see it — for he never looked behind him. He 
 
5g8 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 grew more important and fertilized the land with blood, and 
 fire, and destroyed his own people, his own country, in his 
 frightful selfishness. And, even now, he was conducting the 
 commissioners to Pereyaslav amid the thunder of salutes and 
 the ringing of bells; as if he were a sovereign lord, a hos- 
 podar and a prince. 
 
 The commissioners moved forward into the lion's den with 
 bowed heads as the last spark of hope was extinguished in 
 their hearts. 
 
 Skshetuski, who was riding behind the second sleigh, looked 
 eagerly at the faces of the officers who had come with Khmy- 
 elnitski, to see if Bohun was among them. After his fruit- 
 less search along the Dniester, as far as beyond Yahorlik, he 
 had come to one decision, as his last and only hope of solving 
 the difficulty. . He determined to seek Bohun and challenge 
 him to a duel, for life or death. The unhappy knight knew 
 indeed, that, in this game of chance, Bohun might take him 
 without any fight, or give him over to the Tartars. But he 
 thought better of him than that; he knew his bravery, his 
 rashness, and was almost sure that, without any hesitation, 
 Bohun would decide on an honorable duel for the sake of the 
 princess. He, therefore, arranged his plans in the midst of 
 his sorrow, and decided to bind Bohun by an oath, in case 
 he should fall, to give Helena her liberty. Skshetuski did not 
 think of himself, and, on the consideration that Bohun might 
 say "If I die, she is neither for you nor for me," he was ready 
 to agree to that and to swear to it, if he could only get her out 
 of his hands. She could seek refuge in a cloister for the re- 
 mainder of her life. He hoped to find peace in the war, and, 
 if he should not fall, he would become a monk as soon as 
 peace was declared; as all suffering souls did in those days. 
 Pan Skshetuski saw his way plainly and clearly, and, as the 
 idea of a duel with Bohun had been suggested to him in 
 Zamost and, as his search among the ravines of the Dniester 
 had been unavailing, this seemed to be the only resource left 
 him; for this purpose he had hastened without resting from 
 the Dniester till he reached the commissioners, hoping that 
 he would inevitably find Bohun among Khmyelnitski's at- 
 tendants, or in Kiev. He hoped it all the more earnestly as, 
 according to what Zagloba had said in Yarmolints, the Cos- 
 sack was going to Kiev to his wedding, with three hundred 
 candles. 
 
 Skshetuski now sought him in vain among the colonels, but 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. jgg 
 
 in return he found many acquaintances, whom he had known 
 in former times of peace; such as Dziadzial, whom he had 
 often seen in Chigrin; Yashevski, who had come as an envoy 
 from Sich to the Prince; and Yarosha, a former officer of the 
 prince Naokolo Paltsa, and Hrusha, and many others. He 
 determined to ask them. 
 
 "We are old acquaintances," he said, approaching Yashev- 
 ski. 
 
 "I knew you in Lubni, you are Prince Yeremy's favorite," 
 answered the officer, "we drank and caroused together in 
 Lubni! And what is your prince doing?" 
 
 "He is well." 
 
 "He will not feel quite so well in the spring; he and Khmy- 
 elnitski have not met yet. But they will meet and then one 
 of them will have to die." 
 
 "As God ordains." 
 
 "Come! God is gracious to our little father Khmyelnitski, 
 your prince will never return across the Dnieper to his Tar- 
 tar coast. Khmyelnitski has many warriors, and whom has 
 the prince? He is a true soldier. Are you not serving any 
 longer under his banner?" 
 
 "I am travelling with the commissioners." 
 
 "Well, I am glad to have met an old acquaintance." 
 
 "If you are glad, you can do me a service; and I will ever 
 be grateful to you." 
 
 "What kind of service?" 
 
 "Tell me where Bohun is, the famous ataman, formerly of 
 the Pereyaslav battalion, who must be in high standing among 
 you to-day." 
 
 "Silence," answered Yashevski threateningly, "it is fortu- 
 nate for you that we are old acqiiaintances and that we have 
 drunk together, otherwise I would have laid you out in the 
 snow with this club." 
 
 "Skshetuski looked at him in astonishment, but, as he had 
 a good deal of self-restraint, he simply closed his hand on 
 his club. 
 
 "Are you mad?" 
 
 "I am not mad, and I do not wish to threaten you; but 
 Khmyelnitski has given orders once for all, that if any of 
 you, or even the commissioners, should ask any questions, 
 we were to kill you on the spot. If I do not do it, some one 
 else will, so I warn you out of kindness." 
 
 "But I am asking as a private matter." 
 
6ool WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 "Well that makes no difference, Khmyelnitski gave the 
 order to his colonels and told them to repeat it to the rest, 
 'should anyone ask you for a bundle of wood for the stove, 
 or for potash, kill him dead.' Tell that to your people." 
 
 "I thank you for the advice," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "I warned you; but any other Pole I would have killed." 
 
 A pause followed. The cavalcade had ajrived at the gate 
 of the town. Along both sides of the road and in the streets 
 were swarms of "blacks" and of armed Cossacks, who, out 
 of respect for EZhjrmelnitski, did not curse or throw snow, 
 but looked gloomily at the commissioners, clenched their 
 fists, and grasped the hilts of their swords. 
 
 Skshetuski formed his dragoons into a square, raised his 
 head and rode quietly and proudly through the wide street, 
 paying not the slightest attention to the threatening glances 
 of the crowd. In silence, however, he thought how much 
 presence of mind, sang froid, and Christian patience would 
 be required to do what he had undertaken; so as not to fall 
 a victim, at the first step, in this sea of hatred. 
 
CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 On the following day, the commissioners held long con- 
 sultations as to whether they should at once present Khmyel- 
 nitski with the king's gifts, or whether they should wait 
 until he had hecome more humble and showed some regret. 
 It was decided to endeavor to win him over by kindness and 
 the king's favor, by handing him the gifts at once. It was 
 announced that the presentation would take place and the 
 ceremony was appointed for the following day. 
 
 From early morning, bells rang and shots were fired. 
 Khmyelnitski waited outside his residence, in the midst of 
 his colonels and all the officials, and an immense crowd of 
 Ccssacks and "blacks." He wanted to show the whole nation 
 what honor the king was bestowing upon him. He sat there- 
 fore in the midst of his regiments, with the bunchuk on an 
 elevation, clad in a white cloak lined with sable, and, beside 
 him, the envoys from neighboring countries. With his hands 
 placed on his sides, standing on a velvet cushion with gold 
 fringe he awaited the commissioners. There came from the 
 "blacks" at every moment, a murmur of joy and gratifica- 
 tion at sight of the leader, in whom, prizing power as they 
 did above everything else, they saw the embodiment of this 
 power. He was Just such a figure as the popular fancy pic- 
 tured, this unconquered hero, the victor of the hetmans, of 
 the nobility and especially of the Poles, who, before his time, 
 had enjoyed the fame of being invincible. Khmyelnitski had 
 grown somewhat older during this war, but he still held 
 himself erect, his giant shoulders still betrayed the old ability 
 to overthrow kingdoms or erect new ones. His strong face 
 boj-e the impress of an unyielding will, and uncurbed pride, 
 and the consciousness of security gained by victories; but it 
 was red from excessive drinking; anger and fear were slum- 
 bering in the furrows of his face; it was easy to guess that 
 if they should be aroused, the people would give way beneath 
 their terrible power, as a forest before a storm; his eyes, whose 
 lids were inflamed, were already flashing with impatience, 
 
 60 1 
 
6o2 WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 that the commissioners had not come earlier with their gifts. 
 The frost froze his breath which looked like two clouds of 
 steam, coming from his nostrils, like the two columns of 
 smoke that come from Lucifer's nostrils, and in this mist 
 that came from his lungs, he looked proud and gloomy in 
 his festal array, with the envoys at his side; in the midst of 
 his colonels, with a sea of "blacks" around him. 
 
 Presentl.y, the commissioners drove up; before them came 
 the drummers, beating their drums, and behind them the 
 trumpeters with their trumpets to their mouths, and their 
 their cheeks blown out giving forth a melancholy, long- 
 drawn-out sound, as though it were the funeral of the glory 
 and dignity of the Commonwealth. Behind the band the 
 Master of the Hounds KshetovsM, bore upon a cushion of 
 velvet the baton; Kulchynski, the treasurer of Kiev bearing 
 a red flag with the eagle snd the inscription on it, came next; 
 then came Easiel, walking alone, tall and thin, his white 
 beard flowing down to his waist; with suffering depicted on 
 his aristocratic face, and his soul filled with boundless de- 
 spair. few steps behind the voyevoda came the rest of 
 the commissioners and the procession closed with the dragoons 
 of Bryshovski under Skshetuski. 
 
 Kiesiel walked slowly, for this moment showed him plainly 
 that, beneath the tattered veU of negotiations; beneath the 
 appearance of welcoming the king's favor and his pardon; 
 something else, the humiliating truth peeped out, and even 
 a blind man could see it; and even deaf ears could hear it; 
 because it cried aloud to all. "Thou, Kisiel, dost not go now 
 as a bearer of favors; but thou goest on foot in order to beg 
 for favflr. in return for the baton and the standard, to this 
 leader of peasants, in the name of the whole Commonwealth • 
 thou, her Senator and voyevoda. . . " The soul of the 
 lord of Brusilov was crushed, he felt as powerless as a worm, 
 as lowly as dust and, in his ears, counded the words of 
 Teremy: "It is better not to live than to be the slave of 
 peasants and heathen." What was he, Kisiel, in comparison 
 with this Prince of Lubni, who had opposed this rebellion 
 with a frowning brow, amid the sulphurous fumes of war; 
 wrapped in the smoke of gunpowder like Jupiter? What 
 was he? Under the burden of these thoughts, the heart of 
 the Yoyevoda was broken; smiles forsook his face forever; 
 joy had fled from his heart; he felt only that he would a 
 hundred times rather die than take one more step forward 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 603 
 
 on this road. But he went on, nevertheless; for his whole 
 past life^ all his efforts and endeavors; and the whole, pitiless 
 logic of his earlier attempt at negotiations drove him forward. 
 
 Khmyelniski awaited him with his hands placed on his 
 side, with pouting lips and frowning brow. 
 
 The train advanced and Kisiel stepped forward until he 
 reached the elevation; the trumpeters ceased their music; the 
 drums stopped beating — a deep silence fell on the crowd, only 
 the frosty air moved the flag that Pan Kulchynsi carried. 
 
 Suddenly the stillness was broken by a voice, curt but 
 commanding, in which was expressed the unspeakable might 
 of despair, which takes no count of anything or anybody. 
 
 "Dragoons, to the rear, follow me!" 
 
 It was Skshetuski's voice. 
 
 All heads turned in that direction, even Khmyelnitski 
 raised himself in his chair to see what was happening. The 
 commissioners paled. Skshetuski was standing in his stir- 
 rups, erect, pale, with flashing eyes, his unsheathed sword 
 in his hand, and, partly turned towards the dragoons, he 
 repeated, in thundering tones, the command, "follow me!" 
 
 Through the silence was heard the clatter of the horses' 
 hoofs on the frosty streets; the practised dragoons faced about 
 on the instant; the lieutenant placed himself at their head, 
 gave a signal with his sword and the whole procession returned 
 slowly towards the dwelling of the commissioners. 
 
 Astonishment and bewilderment were depicted on all faces, 
 not excepting Khymelnitski's for, m Skshetuski's voice, there 
 was something unusual, but no one knew exactly whether 
 this sudden return of the escort did not belong to the cere- 
 monies of the day. Kisiel alone, understood it all. He un- 
 derstood that the negotiations as well as the lives of the 
 commissioners and their escort hung at this moment on a 
 hair. But, before Khmyelnitski had time to recover himself, 
 he mounted on the elevation and began his speech. He began 
 with the assurance of royal clemency for Khmyelnitski and 
 for all the Zaporojians, but his speech was presently inter- 
 rupted by another incident, which had one advantage, that it 
 completely turned all attention from what had previously 
 occurred. Dziedzial, an old colonel, who stood beside Khmy- 
 elnitski, threatend the voyevoda with his stafE and cried 
 angrily: 
 
 "What are you saying there, Kisiel? The king? What 
 king? — 'but you, kinglets, princes and nobles, have roused 
 
6o4 WITH FIKJH AiSU HWOKV. 
 
 much trouble and you, Kisiel, bone of our bone, hast de- 
 serted us and stand by the Poles. We have had enough of 
 thy speech, for we can obtain with the sword all that we 
 need." 
 
 The Voyevoda looked into Khmyelnitski's eyes with a 
 grieved expression. 
 
 Do you keep your colonels under such . discipline, het- 
 man." 
 
 "Silence, Dziedzial," cried the hetman. 
 
 "Silence, silence! He got drunk this morning," repeated 
 the other colonels, "take yourself off or we will take you 
 by the neck." 
 
 Dziedzial wished to make his voice heard still further, but 
 he was literally taken by the collar and removed from the 
 circle. 
 
 The Voyevoda spoke on in well arranged' and well chosen 
 words. He set before him the great testimonials he would 
 receive, and that they would be the tokens of the justifica- 
 tion of a dignity, which he had hitherto usurped by his own 
 might. The king might have punished him; but he forgave 
 him, as Khmyelnitski had shown himself obedient at Zamost, 
 and as his late acts had not occurred during the rule of the 
 present king. It would, therefore, be advisable that Khmy- 
 elnitski, after committing so many crimes, should show him- 
 self grateful for such mercy and distinetioin; should stop 
 the shedding of blood, restore peace among the peasantry and 
 begin negotiations with the commissioners. 
 
 Khmyelnitski received in silence the baton and the flag, 
 which he at once ordered to be unfurled above his head. At 
 this sight, the "blacks" broke out into a howl of joy, that 
 for a time drowned every other sound. A certain satisfaction 
 beamed upon the face of the hetman who said, after a pause: 
 
 "I thank His Majesty, the King, most humbly for the 
 great favor that he has shown me through you, as also for the 
 symbol of authority over the army, and for his pardon of my 
 late transgressions. I always said that the king was on my 
 side and against you, false knights and princes; the best 
 proof of it is that he has expressed his satisfaction that I 
 cut your throats. And I will continue to cut, if you do not 
 obey me and the king in everything." 
 
 Khmyelnitski had spoken the last words in a loud voice, 
 frowning and scolding as though his anger were rising; the 
 commissioners were astonished at this unexepeeted ending 
 to his answer. Kisiel, however, said: 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 605 
 
 "The king commands you, hetman, to cease the bloodshed 
 and to commence negotiations with us." 
 
 "I do not shed blood, the Lithuanian army does thatj for 
 I have received news that Eadzivill has destroyed my pos- 
 sessions of Mozyr and Turov. If this is confirmed, I have 
 enough distinguished prisoners from among you whose 
 throats I will order to be cut at once. I shall not hurry about 
 the negotiations, it would be difficult to conclude negotiations 
 now, as the army is separated; I have only a handful of 
 colonels with me, the rest are in winter-quarters; I can do 
 nothing without them. Besides, why should we stand here 
 talking in the cold? What you were commissioned to give 
 me, you have given me; and all see that I am now hetman 
 appointed by the king. And now come and take some 
 dinner and gorzalka with me, for I am hungry." 
 
 Saying this, Khmyelnitski strode towards Kis residence, 
 followed by the commissioners and colonels. In the large, 
 middle room, stood a table, which bent beneath the weight 
 of plundered silver ware, among which the Palatine Kisiel 
 might have found some that had been robbed from him the 
 previous summer in Hushch. 
 
 On the table stood mounds of pork, beef, Tartar pilav and 
 the whole room smelt of millet vodka, which stood in silver 
 flagons. Khmyelnitski, sat down and placed the Voyevoda of 
 Kiev at his right, and the Castellan Bjozovski at his left, 
 and, putting his hand on the flagon of gorzalka, said: 
 
 "They say in Warsaw that I drink Polish blood; but I 
 prefer gorzalka and leave the other to the dogs." 
 
 The colonels broke into a loud laugh. 
 
 This was the insult that the Hetman aimed at the com- 
 missioners before the meal, who gulped it in silence, in order, 
 as the sub-treasurer of Lemberg wrote, "not to irritate the 
 beast." 
 
 Heavy perspiration stood on Kisiel's pale forehead. 
 
 The entertainment began. 
 
 The ofBcers took up great pieces of meat from the plates 
 in their hands. Khmyelnitski himself waited on Kisiel and 
 Bjozovski: The dinner began in silence, for everyone was 
 satisfying his hunger. The silence was only broken by the 
 crunching of bones between the teeth of the feasters or by 
 the sound of gulping drink. From time to time, one or the 
 other would venture a word, which remained unnoticed, until 
 at length, Khmyelnitski, who had partially satisfied his 
 
6o6 WITH FIRE AXD iiWORD. 
 
 hunger and tossed down several goblets of millet gorzalka^ 
 turned suddenly to the Voyevoda, and said: 
 
 "Who commands your escort?" 
 
 Kisiel became uneasy. 
 
 Skshetuski, a noble knight," he said. 
 
 "I know him," said Bogdan, "and why would he not stay 
 when you handed me the presents?'' 
 
 "Because he was only sent with us as a protection and 
 not to assist us, and he had his orders." 
 
 "And who gave him the orders?" 
 
 "I," answered the Voyevoda, ""because I thought it was 
 not fitting that the dragoons should be at our elbow when 
 I was handing you over the presents." 
 
 "But I think it was something else, for I know that this 
 soldier is stiff-necked." 
 
 Yashevski here interrupted the conversation. 
 
 "We do not fear the dragoons in the least," he said. "They 
 had some mighty Poles among them at one time, but at Pil- 
 avyets we learned that they are no longer the same Poles 
 who formerly beat the Turks, the Tartars, and the Germans 
 
 "Xo longer the Zamoyskis, the Zolkievskis, the KhodMe- 
 viclies. the Khmyeletskis, and the Konyetspolkis," inter- 
 rupted Khmyelnitski, "but Tkhorzovski and Zayontskovski,^ 
 men, children clothed in iron armor. They nearly died of 
 fright when they caught sight of us, although, on that Wed- 
 nesday, we had only three thousand Tartars there ..." 
 
 The commissioners were silent, but their meat and drink 
 became even more bitter to them. 
 
 "I beg you most humbly to eat and drink," said Khmyel- 
 nitski, "for, if you do not, I shall believe that our simple 
 Cossack fare is not agreeable to your noble palates.' 
 
 "If your throats are too narrow, we can cut them," cried 
 Dziedzial. 
 
 The colonels, who were already quite drunk, laughed loudly 
 once more; but Khymelnitski looked at them threateningly 
 and they were silent. 
 
 Kisiel who had been ill for several days, was as white as 
 a sheet. 
 
 Bjozovski's face was so red that it looked as though the 
 
 ' Tkhorzovski and Zayontskovski are fictitious names ; the former means 
 "coward" and the latter "hare," intended as a direct insult to the Polish 
 Commissioners. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 50- 
 
 blood would start through the skin; he could not contain 
 himself any longer, and shouted: 
 
 "Have we come here to dinner or to listen to insults?" 
 
 Khmyelnitski answered: 
 
 "You came here to enter into negotiations and, in the 
 meanwhile, the Lithuanian army is burning and slaughtering. 
 They have destroyed Mozyr and Turov I hear; and, if it is 
 true, I will have the heads chopped off four hundred prisoners, 
 before your eyes." 
 
 BJozovski, who was foaming with rage a minute hefore, 
 now controlled himself. It was, indeed, as Khmyelnitski 
 said. The life of the prisoners depended on the hetman's 
 mood, a wink of his eye. One must bear all and endeavor to 
 soothe his anger, and to bring him back to a "milder and 
 healthier mood of mind." 
 
 With this intention, the naturally timid and gentle Car- 
 melite Lentovski hegan in a soft voice: 
 
 "The good God grant that the news from Lithuania about 
 Mozyr and Turov may not be confirmed." 
 
 But, hardly had he spoken, when Fedor Vyeshnyak a Cher- 
 kass colonel, leaned over and swung his staff in order to 
 strike the Carmelite on the neck. Fortunately, he did not 
 reach him, for four other diners were sitting between them, 
 so he cried out: 
 
 "Silence, priest, it is none of your business to show us 
 our faults, come outside and I will teach you to honor the 
 Zaporojian officers." 
 
 The rest endeavored to quiet him, and, as they could not 
 succeed, they threw him out of the room. 
 
 "When do you wish to open the negotiations, Hetman?" 
 asked Kisiel, with the intention of giving a different direc- 
 tion to the conversation. 
 
 Unfortunately, Khmyelnitski was no longer sober, and he 
 returned a quick and decisive answer. 
 
 "To-morrow we will take counsel and pass sentence. I am 
 drunk now; why do you bother me now about the com- 
 mission, instead of letting me eat and drink in peace. I 
 am tired of all that, we must now have war" (bringing his 
 closed fist down on the table so that the glasses and plates 
 rattled.) "In the next four weeks I will sweep out every- 
 one, from the lowest to the highest. I will trample on 
 you all and finally sell you to the Turkish Sultan. The 
 king will be king to exterminate the nobles, dukes, princes; 
 if it is a prince he cuts his throat, if it is a Cossack, he does 
 
6o8 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 the same. You threatened me with the Swedes, but, even 
 they, will not compel me. Tukhay Bey, my brother, my heart, 
 the only fakon in the world, is near me and ready to do all 
 that I wish." 
 
 Here, Khmyelnitski, with the peculiarity of drunkenness, 
 suddenly changed from anger to the deepest emotion, his 
 voice trembled with suppressed tears at the remembrance of 
 Tukhay Bey. 
 
 "You wish me to draw my sword against the Turks and the 
 Tartars, but nothing will come of it. I will march against 
 you with my good friends. I have already sent out regi- 
 ments to command that the soldiers shall feed their horses 
 and hold themselves in readiness to march, without wagons, 
 without cannon; for I can find all that among the Poles. 
 ^Mioever takes a wagon from a Cossack shall have his throat 
 cut. I am not taking any myself, or, at most, only saddles 
 and provision sacks. Thus, I will go to the Vistula and 
 shout: 'Sit still and keep silence, Poles!' and if you shout 
 from behind the Vistula I will find you there. I have had 
 enough of your nobles, your dragoons, you cursed insects, 
 who live only an lies."' 
 
 He sprang to his feet, kicked away the stool on which he 
 was sitting, tore his hair, stamped on the floor and shouted: 
 
 '"We must have war, for I have received the absolution and 
 the blessing for it! What do I care for commissioners and 
 commissions; I do not want a truce."' 
 
 Presently, he became aware of the terror of the commis- 
 sioners. It suddenly occurred to him that, if they should 
 at once go away, the war would have to begin in winter; there- 
 fore, at a time when the Cossacks could not throw up earth- 
 works, and would not be able to offer resistance to the enemy 
 on the open field. So he quieted himself somewhai, and sat 
 down again on the stool. His head sank on his breast, he 
 placed both hands on his knees and breathed heavily. Then, 
 he once more seized the goblet of gorzalka, "Here's to the 
 health of His Majesty the King,"" he shouted. 
 
 "To his health and glory," repeated the colonels. 
 
 "Come, Kisiel, do not worry," said the hetman, "and do 
 not take what I said to heart, I am drunk. The fortune 
 tellers told me that we must have war, but I will wait until 
 the new grass grows; and then I will enter into negotiations; 
 and then I will set the prisoners free. They tell me you are 
 ill, we will drink to your health."' 
 
WITR FIRE AND 8W0BD. 
 
 609 
 
 "I thank you, Hetman of the Zaporojians," said Kisiel. 
 
 "You are my guest, I do not forget that." 
 
 As he said this, Khmyelnitski was again overcome by his 
 emotions and, placing his arm around the Voyevoda's neck, 
 he laid his great red face beside the other's pale, emaciated 
 cheeks. 
 
 The other officers followed his lead and, approaching the 
 commissioners, shook their hands warmly, clapped them on 
 the shoulders and repeated after the hetman: "When the 
 new grass grows." The commissioners suffered tortures. 
 The peasants' breath, reeking of brandy, covered the faces 
 of these highborn noblemen, who endured the handshakes 
 of their perspiring hands with as much aversion as they did 
 the insults. There was, however, no lack of threats, in be- 
 tween these expressions of good will. Some called out to the 
 Voyevoda: "We will enjoy cutting down the Poles, but 
 you are our man!" Others said, "And what do you think, 
 gentlemen; formerly you beat us, now you beg us for mercy! 
 Death and destruction to the white handed gentlemen!" The 
 ataman Yovk, a former miller from Nestevar cried: "I have 
 cut up my master Prince Chetvertynski." "Give us Yere- 
 my," cried Yashevski staggering, "and we will give you your 
 health." 
 
 It had become unbearably warm and close in the room. 
 The table covered with the remains of the meat and bread, 
 and soaking with vodka and mead was a disgu ting sight. 
 Presently, some fortune tellers came into the room, with 
 whom Khmyelnitski generaly sat and drank until midnight, 
 while listening to their foretelling. They were strange 
 figures, old and bent, yellow with age, or still young; and 
 read the future in wax, grains of wheat, fire, the foam of 
 water, the bottom of bottles, or in human fat. Jokes and 
 laughter were heard among the younger of these and the 
 colonels. Kisiel was ready to faint. 
 
 "We thank you for your dinner, Hetman," he said in a 
 weak voice. 
 
 "I will come to you to dinner to-morow, Kisiel," answered 
 Khmyelnitski, "and now go. Donyets will conduct you with 
 his soldiers into your house, that the 'blacks' may not do you 
 any harm." 
 
 The commissioners bowed and went out. Donyets was 
 awaiting them on the outside with his soldiers. 
 , "0 God! God! God!" whispered Kisiel to himself, cover- 
 
 39 
 
6io WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 ing his face with his hands. They proceeded slowly to the 
 commissioners" houses. It turned out, however, that these 
 were no longer beside eacli other. Khmyelnitski had inten- 
 tionally placed each one in a different quarter of the town 
 that they might not meet and consult so easily. The Voye- 
 voda Kisiel, weary, exhausted, hardly able to stand on his 
 feet, at once retired and would see no one until the next day; 
 only towards evening, he sent for Skshetuski. 
 
 "What have you done?" he said to Mm, "what have yoii 
 done, sir? Your life and ours are at stake." 
 
 "Illustrious Toyevoda, mea culpa 1" answered the knight. 
 "But I was beside myself and I would rather have died a 
 hundred times than have witnessed such things." 
 
 "Khmyelnitski guessed your motive and I had diflBculty in 
 quieting the animal in him and accounting for your act. But 
 he will come to see me to-day and will certainly ask for you, 
 so tell him that I had commanded you to lead the soldiers 
 away." 
 
 "From to-day Bryshovski will take the command again, he 
 feels better." 
 
 "So much the better, you have too proud a neck for the 
 present times. We have no fault to find with your behavior, 
 except thait you are not cautious enough; but we know that 
 YOU are young and have a sorrow that you can hardly bear." 
 
 "I am accustomed to sorrow, illustrious Voyevoda, biit I 
 cannot endure disgrace." 
 
 Kisiel shuddered slightly, as though someone had touched 
 an open wound; then he smiled, sadly and resignedly, and 
 said: 
 
 "Such words have become my daily bread. At first, when 
 I heard them I wept bitter tears; but now I can no longer 
 weep." 
 
 Skshetuski's heart was filled with pity at the sight of this 
 venerable man, with the face of a martyr, who was passing 
 his latter days in a double pain, that of the body as well as 
 the soul. 
 
 'Illustrious Voyevoda," he said, "God is my witness that I 
 was thinking only of the present dreadful days; when the 
 crown officials and senators must bend their heads before 
 these vagabonds, for whom the stake should be the only re- 
 ward." 
 
 "God bless you, for you are young, upright, and I know had 
 no evil intention; but what you are saying is what the prince 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 6ll 
 
 says and what the army, the nobles, the Diet, and half the 
 Commonwealth says — and the whole burden of contempt and 
 hatred falls upon me." 
 
 "Each serves his country as he thinks best; may God judge 
 the good intention. But, as regards Prince Yeremy, he 
 serves his country with his life and his property." 
 
 "And he is covered with fame and suns himself in it," re- 
 plied the Voyevoda. "But what has happened to me? Oh, 
 you said rightly, may God judge a good intention, and grant 
 rest, in the grave at least, to those who suffer so unspeakably 
 in this life." 
 
 Skshetuski was silent, and Kisiel turned his eyes to heaven 
 in silent prayer and in a few moments spoke again: 
 
 "I am a thorough Eussian, bone and blood. The remains 
 of the Princess Viatoldych rest in this land, therefore I love 
 her, and the favored people who have been nourished at her 
 breast. I saw the injustice on both sides; saw the wild law- 
 lessness of the Zaporojians, but also the unbearable pride of 
 those who sought to crush this wild, warlike people and en- 
 slave them. What remained for me to do, for me, a Eussian, 
 and at the same time a faithful son and senator of the Com- 
 monwealth, I united with those who said "Pax Vobiscum," 
 as both my nature and my heart bade me; for among these 
 was the blessed king, our father, the chancellor, the primate, 
 and many others; and I saw that civil war was destruction for 
 both parties. I desired to devote my whole life, till my latest 
 breath, to securing peace; and, even after some blood had 
 been shed, I thought, I will be an angel of union; and I went 
 thither and worked, and still work although in pain, amid 
 tortures, disgrace and desperation, which are more dreadful 
 than anything else. And now, by the love of God, I do not 
 know if your prince took up his sword too soon, or if I came 
 too late with the olive branch; but one thing I know, that my 
 work is in vain, that my strength is leaving me, that I have 
 too late run my grey head against a wall; that I am going to 
 the grave, seeing before me only darkness and destruction. 
 Great God! — general destruction." 
 
 "God will send help." 
 
 "Oh, that He might send me a ray of hope before my death, 
 that I may not die with despair in my heart, I would thank 
 Him for all my sorrows, for the cross that I have borne my 
 life long, for the fact that the mob desired my life, that I was 
 called a traitor at th« Diet, for my lost fortune, for the dis- 
 
6i2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 grace in which I am living, for all the bitter reward that I 
 received from both parties." 
 
 As he said this, the Voyevoda raised his emaciated arms to 
 heaven and two big tears, possibly the last in Ufe, flowed down 
 his cheeks. 
 
 Skshetuski could stand it no longer, he sank on his knees 
 before the Voyevoda, seized his hand and said, in a voice 
 trembling with emotion: 
 
 "I am a soldier, and am going a different road from you, 
 but I honor your service and your sorrow." 
 ■ With these words, this nobleman and knight of Tishnyovy- 
 etskrs army, pressed to his Hps the hand of this Eussian, 
 whom a few months before, he had called a traitor as did 
 others. And Kisiel laid both hands on his head, and said, 
 gently: 
 
 "My son, may God comfort thee, guide and bless thee, as I 
 bless thee." 
 
 The complicated business of the negotiations began this 
 very day. Khmyelnitski came very late and in a very bad 
 humor to dine with the Voyevoda. He announced at once, 
 that all that he had said yesterday about a commission at 
 Whitsuntide and about the settirg free of the prisoners, at 
 the time of the negotiations, had been said while he was 
 driink, and that he saw now that people must have been try- 
 ing to make a fool of him. Kisiel again humored and quieted 
 him, allowing him to be in the right; but, according to the 
 words of the Chamberlain of Lemburg, "surd tyranno fabula 
 dicta." Khmyelnitski treated the commissioners so rudely 
 that they preferred even the Khmyelnitski of the day before. 
 He struck Pan Pozovski \vith his baton, simply because he 
 had not introduced himself to him soon enough, although 
 Pozovski was dangerously ill and then almost dpng. 
 
 Neither kindness nor the persuasions of the Voyevoda were 
 of any use, and it was not until he had drunk some gorzalka 
 and some excellent Hushch mead, that his humor improved. 
 But now, he would on no account permit any allusion to the 
 matter in hand, only saying, "Let us drink — drink — the day 
 after to-morrow we will attend to business. If you do not 
 agree to that I will go." At three o'clock in the morning he 
 insisted on going into tlie Voyevoda's sleeping room. The 
 latter opposed this, under all sorts of pretexts: as he had shut 
 Pan Skshetuski in there, for fear that, if this unyielding 
 soldier should meet Khmyelnitski, something might happen 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 613 
 
 that would be ruinous to the officer. Khmyelnitski, however, 
 insisted, and went into the room, Kisiel following. How 
 great, then, was the astonishment of the Voyevoda, when the 
 hetman, spying the knight, nodded to him and cried: 
 
 "Skshetuski, why don't you drink with us?" 
 
 He stretched his hands invitingly towards him. 
 
 "Because I am ill," answered the lieutenant bowing. 
 
 "Why did you ride away yesterday? That spoiled my 
 whole enjoyment." 
 
 "He had orders to do it," said Kisiel. 
 
 "Do not say a word, Voyevoda; I know him, and know that 
 he did not wish to look on when you were honoring me. Oh, 
 he is a case! But what would not go unpunished in another, 
 I will forgive him, for I love him; he is my dear friend." 
 
 Kisiel's eyes opened wide in astonishment, but the hetman 
 turned again to Skshetuski. 
 
 "And do you know why I love you?" 
 
 Skshetuski shook his head. 
 
 "You think it was because you rescued me from the noose 
 that time at Omelnik, when I was only a poor fellow and was 
 being hunted like a wild animal; but it is not for that reason. 
 I then gave you a ring, containing some dust from the grave 
 of Christ; but, you, horned soul, did not show me the ring 
 when you fell into my hands — ^well, I let you go, we were 
 quits. But that is not v/hy I love you; you have done me 
 another service which has made you my warm friend, and for 
 which I am indebted to you." 
 
 Skshetuski looked up in astonishment at Khmyelnitski 
 
 "See, how astonished they look," said the hetman, as if he 
 were talking to a third person. "I will tell you what I heard 
 in Chigrin, when I came there from Bazavluk with Tukhay 
 Bey. I enquired everywhere for my enemy Chaplinski whom 
 I could not find; but they told me what you did to him after 
 our first meeting; that you had taken him by the neck and the 
 seat of his trousers and had banged him up against the door 
 and had thrashed him like a dog until he bled. Ha!" 
 
 "That is true, I did so," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "Oh that was good, that was good, you did well; but I will 
 find him yet. What are the negotiations and commissions 
 for, otherwise. I will find him and will settle with him in 
 my own way. But you gave him pepper." 
 
 Then he turned to Kisiel and told the story again. 
 
 "He, took him by the coat collar and by the seat of his 
 
6i4 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 trousers, and lifted him up as if he were a little fox; pushed 
 the door open with him, and threw him into the street." 
 
 Here Khmyelnitski began to laugh, so that the echo re- 
 sounded in the parlor and was heard in the dining-room. 
 
 "Sir voyevoda, send for some mead, I must drink to the 
 health of this knight, my friend." 
 
 Kisiel opened the door and called to a servant, who im- 
 mediately brought three goblets tilled with Hushch mead. 
 
 Khmyelnitski clinked glasses with the Voyevoda and with 
 Skshetuski and drank until his head steamed and his face 
 brightened with a smile. He became very jovial and, turning 
 to the lieutenant, said: 
 
 "Demand what you will?" 
 
 Skshetuski's pale face flushed a bright red, hut no one 
 spoke. 
 
 "Fear nothing," said Khmyelnitski, "my words are not 
 smoke; demand what you will, not about anything about 
 Kisiel's business." 
 
 Although he was drunk, Khmyelnitski always knew what 
 he was doing. 
 
 "If I may be allowed to benefit by the interest which you, 
 hetman, have •taken in me, I demand justice from you. One 
 of your colonels has done me a wrong ..." 
 
 "I will cut his throat!" interrupted Khmyelnitski, angrily. 
 
 "I do not care for that; let him only fight a duel with me." 
 
 "I will cut his throat," repeated the hetman, "who is he?" 
 
 "Bohun!" 
 
 Khmyelnitski's eyes flashed, and he struck his hand to his 
 forehead. 
 
 "Bohun?" said he, "Bohun is dead, the king wrote me that 
 he fell ia a duel." 
 
 Skshetuski was astonished. Zagloba then had spoken the 
 truth. 
 
 "And what has he done to you?" asked Khmyelnitski 
 
 Skshetuski's face flushed a deeper red. He dreaded to 
 mention the princess before this half drunken hetman, lest he 
 should hear some unpardonable insult. 
 
 Kisiel helped him out. 
 
 "It is a serious matter, about which the castellan Bjozovski 
 told me. Bohun has stolen this knighf s betrothed, hetman, 
 and has hidden her no one knows where." 
 
 "Are you looking for her?" asked Khmyelnitski. 
 
 "I looked for her along the Dniester, because he has hidden 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. gj^ 
 
 her there; but I could not find her. I heard, however, thaA 
 he was going to take her to Kiev for the wedding. Give me 
 the commission, hetman, to go to Kiev and look for her there. 
 I ask nothing further." 
 
 "You are my friend, you have beaten Chaplinski, I give 
 you not only the right 'to go and seek her there, wherever it 
 pleases you; but I command that whosoever is detaining her 
 shall deliver her into your hands, and I will give you a safe 
 conduct and a letter to the Metropolitan, that he may search 
 for her in the nunneries. My word is not smoke," and, he 
 opened the door and called Vyhovski to come and write the 
 order and the letter. Charnota, although it was four o'clock 
 in the morning was obliged to go and fetch the seal. Dzied- 
 zial brought the safe conduct and Donyets, received orders to 
 accompany Skshetuski to Kiev, with two hundred horsemen; 
 and as far as the first Polish settlement. 
 
 The following day Skshetuski left Pereyaslav. 
 
CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 If Zagloba found time hang heavy on his hands in Zbaraj, 
 it was still more tedious for Volodiyovski, who longed for 
 war and adventure. It happened, indeed, that, from time to 
 time, certain regiments left Zbaraj to drive away the swarms 
 of freebooters who were setting fire along the banks of the 
 Zbruch. But this was not regular war, only little expeditions 
 which the cold weather and the severe winter made difficult 
 and which caused great labor but brought in little honor. 
 Consequently Pan Michael daily urged Zagloba to hasten to 
 the assistance of Skshetuski of whom they had heard nothing 
 for some time. 
 
 "He has certainly been exposed to dangers yonder and has 
 perhaps already lost his life," said Volodiyovski. '^e must 
 set out at once, even though we should lose our lives with 
 him." 
 
 Zagloba resisted no longer, for he felt as though he should 
 die of ennui in Zbaraj, and was astonished that mushrooms 
 had not already began to sproiit all over him. But he de- 
 layed the journey in the hope that at any moment they might 
 receive news of Skshetuski. 
 
 "He is brave, but very cautious," he replied to Yolodiyov- 
 ski's entreaties, "let iis wait a couple of days longer; perhaps 
 a letter may come and prove that our expedition is quite un- 
 necessary."' 
 
 Volodiyovski recognized the justice of this argument and 
 tried to possess his soul in patience, but the time seemed to 
 creep along. Towards the end of December, the cold pre- 
 vented even skirmishes, and the neighborhood became peace- 
 ful. The only interest they had was the news which pene- 
 trated the gray walls of Zbaraj from the outside. 
 
 They discussed the coronation, and the Diet, and whether 
 Prince Yeremy would be made commander-in-chief, as he 
 certainly deserved to be, in preference to any other warrior, 
 ^lany were annoyed with those who maintained that the 
 present direction of things in favor of negotiations with 
 6i6 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. fijy 
 
 Khmelnitski, Kisiel alone could be promoted. Volodiyovski 
 had to fight several duels on this account; Zagloba, to under- 
 take several drinking-bouts; and there was even danger of 
 his becoming a confirmed drunkard, as, not satisfied with 
 drinking among the officers and noblemen, he was not 
 ashamed to drink even in the citizen's drinking-shops; and to 
 go to baptisms and weddings in their houses, where the mead, 
 for which Zbaraj was noted, pleased him exceedingly well. 
 
 Volodiyovski took him to task and did it was particularly 
 unbecoming for a nobleman to put himself on a familiar foot- 
 ing with persons in such low position, and that the whole 
 nobility suffered through his want of self-respect. Zagloba 
 answered that the laws were at fault in allowing the lower 
 classes to thSve and to attain to comforts that were properly 
 fit only for the nobility. He propheded that no good could 
 come of such prerogatives. But he continued to act as here- 
 tofore and, really, one could hardly blame him, in those dreary 
 winter days; full of expectation, uncertainty, and ennui. 
 
 The regiments of the prince came gradually in greater 
 numbers to Zbaraj, which led people to expect war in the 
 spring. Meanwhile, everyone's courage seemed to rise. 
 Among others. Pan Longin arrived with Skshetuski's hussar 
 regiment. He brought word that the prince had fallen into 
 disfavor at court, and also told that Pan YanUsh Tyshkievich, 
 the Voyevoda of Kiev were dead, the man who, according to 
 general opinion, was to be Kisiel's successor in office. And, 
 last of all, he told of the severe illness which had overtaken 
 Pan Lashch the field commander in Cracow. As for the war 
 Pan Podbipyenta had heard from the prince, himself, that it 
 could only be continued through the force of inevitable neces- 
 sity; as the commissioners, provided with instructions to make 
 all possible concessions to the Cossacks, had already set out 
 to see Khmyelnitski. 
 
 Podbipyenta's report was received with regular fury by 
 Vishnyoveyetski's officers, and Zagloba proposed that they 
 should enter a protest at court and should form a confeder- 
 ation; for, as he said, he did not wish to see his services at 
 Konstantinov made of no account. 
 
 Amid these stories and uncertainty, the whole of February 
 passed and almost the half of March; and yet, no news came 
 of Skshetuski. 
 
 Volodiyovski insisted more and more thart they should set 
 out. 
 
618 WITH FIRE AND HWORD. 
 
 "We are bound to seek not only the princess, but also 
 Skshetuski," said he. 
 
 And yet Zagloba was right in deferring their journey from 
 day to day, for, towards the end of March, the Cossack Zakhar 
 arrived and brought a letter from Kiev, addressed to Pan 
 Volodiyovski. Pan Michael at once called Zagloba and, after 
 they had shut themselves up with the messenger in a room 
 apart, he broke the seal and read as follows: 
 
 "AU along the Dniester, as far as YahorUk, I found no 
 trace. Thinking that she must be hidden in Kiev, I joined 
 the commissioners and went with them to Pereyaslav. Hav- 
 ing, quite unexpectedly, received a safe-conduct from Khmy- 
 elnitski, I went to Kiev and looked everywhere;^ assisted by 
 the metropolitan himself. There are a number of our men 
 here, among the residents and hidden in the cloisters; but, 
 for fear of the ^blacks', they do not lei: themselves be seen, 
 and consequently it makes it more difficult to look for anyone. 
 God has not only guided and protected me. but he has given 
 me favor in Khmyelnitski's eyes; and, therefore, I trust that 
 He wUl continue to help me and have mercy on me. I have 
 requested Father Mukhovietski to perform a solemn votive 
 mass, at which I hope you wiU pray for my success." 
 
 Skshetuski." 
 
 "Praised be God Everlasting," cried Volodiyovski. 
 
 "There is a postscript," said Zagloba, who was looking over 
 the knight's shoulder. 
 
 "So there is," said Pan Michael, continuing to read: 
 
 "The bearer of this letter, the sergeant of the Mirgorod 
 camp, served me faithfully when I was imprisoned in Sich, 
 and has helped me also in Kiev; and he undertakes to deUver 
 this letter to you at the peril of his life. Take him under 
 your protection, Pan Michael, and see that he wants for 
 nothing. ' 
 
 "Come, that is a brave Cossack, perhaps the only one," said 
 Zagloba, reaching his hand out to Zakhar. 
 
 The old man shook it without servility. 
 
 "You can count surely upon a reward," said the little 
 knight. 
 
 '^e is a falcon!" answered the Cossack, "how I love him! 
 I did not do this for money." 
 
 "Many a nobleman would be proud of your sense of chiv- 
 alry," said Zagloba. "So you are not all beasts over there, 
 not all of you; but, never mind that. So Pan Skshetuski is in 
 Kiev?" 
 
WITH FTRE and SWOBD. 
 
 619 
 
 "Yes, Sir." 
 
 "And in safety? for I hear the "blacks" are carousing 
 there." 
 
 "He is staying with Donyets the colonel. Nothing can 
 harm him, for Khmyelnitski, our little father, has com- 
 manded Donyets to watch over him at peril of his life as the 
 eye in his head." 
 
 "Wonders will never cease! How did Khymelnitski de- 
 velop this affection for Skshetuski?' ' 
 
 "He has loved him for a long time." 
 
 "And did Skshetuski tell you what he was looking for in 
 Kiev?" 
 
 "Why should he not tell me when he knew that I was his 
 friend. I helped him to search, or I searched alone — and 
 of course he had to tell me what I was to look for." 
 
 "And have you found no trace yet?" 
 
 "Kone! the Poles that are concealed there know nothing 
 of each other, so it is not easy to find her. You heard that 
 the 'blacks' were committing murder, but I saw it for myself. 
 They murder, not only Poles, but those who conceal the 
 Poles; even monks and nuns. In the convent of Saint Nicho- 
 las there were twelve Polish women among the nuns; they 
 smoked them out, together with the nuns, and, when the 
 poor things ran into the street, they hunted them and threw 
 them into the Dnieper. Ah, how many of them have been 
 drowned there!" 
 
 "Then perhaps she is dead." 
 
 "Perhaps.' 
 
 "But no," interrupted Volodiyovski, "if Bohun took her 
 there, he certainly put her somewhere in safety." 
 
 "Where would she be safer than in a convent? That is the 
 only place where one would be sure of finding her." 
 
 "Ugh!" said Zagloba. "Do you believe Zakhar, that she 
 is dead?" 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 "It is evident that Skshetuski is in good spirits," said 
 Zagloba, "God proved him, but he has also comforted him. 
 And you, Zakhar, is it long since you left Kiev?" 
 
 "Some time ago, sir, I left Kiev at the time that the com- 
 missioners passed through there on their homeward Journey. 
 A crowd of Poles wanted to escape with them, and fled across 
 the snow-fields, the steppes, and through the forests to Bya- 
 logrod; but the Cossacks followed them and slew them. Some 
 
620 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 were left behind, some were killed, and many were ransomed 
 by Pan Kisiel, as long as he had a coin left." 
 
 "Oh, the dog-souls! So you travelled with the eonunis- 
 sioners?" 
 
 "I travelled with them as far as Hushch and from there 
 to Ostrog and then I came on alone." 
 
 "You are an old acquaintance of SkshetusWs?' 
 
 "I made his acquaintance in Sich and took care of him 
 when he was wounded; and there I learned to love him as 
 though he were my own child. I am old and have no one 
 to love." 
 
 Zaffloba called a boy and ordered some mead and meat 
 to be brought and they sat down to supper. Zakhar eat with 
 enjoyment as he was tired and hungry, and he eagerly dipped 
 his grey moustache into the dark liquid, he tasted it, smacked 
 his Ups, and said: 
 
 "Excellent mead!"" 
 
 "It is better than the blood that you drink," said Zagloba, 
 "but I think that as you are a good fellow and love Pan 
 Skshetuski you will not return to join the insurrection, but 
 will remain with us. You will not sufEer." 
 
 Zakhar raised his head. 
 
 "I have brought the letter, I shall return; I am a Cossack, 
 I will remain with the Cossacks, not fraternize with the 
 Poles." 
 
 "And wiU you fight against us?"' 
 
 "That will I, I am a Cossack of Sich. We have chosen 
 Khmyelnitski, our little father, as hetman; and now the king 
 has sent him the baton and the standard." 
 
 "There you have it. Pan Michael!" said Zagloba, "did I 
 not tell you that we must protest?"" 
 
 "From what camp are you?" 
 
 "From the Mirgorod camp, but it is not in existence any 
 longer." 
 
 ""What happened to it?" 
 
 "Pan CharnYetski"s hussars destroyed it at the Zolta Woda; 
 and I, and all who survived, are now with Donyets. Pan 
 Charnyetski is a brave soldier: he is our prisoner; the com- 
 missioners asked for him."" 
 
 "And we have also prisoners belonging to you!" 
 
 "So it is. In Kiev, they say that our best warrior is in 
 captivity with the Poles; although others say that he is 
 dead." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 621 
 
 "Who was it?" 
 
 "Oh, the celebrated ataman Bohun." 
 
 "Bohun received his death-wound in a duel." 
 
 "And who fought him?" 
 
 "This knight, here," Zagloba answered, pointing to Volo- 
 diyovski. 
 
 Zakhar's eyes almost started out of his head, and his face 
 became crimson. He was about to put the second quart of 
 mead to his mouth, but it spluttered through his nose as he 
 broke into a loud laugh. 
 
 "This knight kill Bohun?" he asked choking with laughter. 
 
 "What, the devil!" cried Volodiyovski frowning, "this 
 messenger takes too much upon himself." 
 
 "Do not be angry; Pan Michael," interrupted Zagloba, "he 
 is a good man, i\ is evident. He does not know how to 
 flatter — ^but then he is a Cossack. And, on the other hand, 
 it does you all the more honor, that, in spite of your small 
 stature, you have already carried o£E so many victories. You 
 have a puny body, but a mighty soul. Do you know that 
 I, myself, looked at you after the duel, although I had seen 
 you fight with my own eyes; for it seemed impossible that 
 such a little fellow. ..." 
 
 "Enough of that," growled Volodiyovski. 
 
 "I am not your father; you need not bear me any malice. 
 But I tell you one thing, that I wish I had such a son; and, 
 if you wish it, I will adopt you; will leave you my whole for- 
 tune; for it is no disgrace to have a great soul in -■ little body. 
 The Prince himself is not much taller than you, yet Alex- 
 ander of Macedon is not worthy to be his squire." 
 
 "But what makes me angry is that one can see no results 
 in Skshetuski's letter," said Volodiyovski, already pacified, 
 "thank God that he did not lose his own life on the banks 
 of the Dniester. But, up to this, he has not yet found the 
 princess; and who can vouch that he will find her?" 
 
 "That is true, but, as God, through our hands, has freed 
 him from Bohun and has led him safely through so many 
 dangers and accidents; has filled Khmyelnitski's stony heart 
 with an extraordinary love for him; it cannot be that he 
 should be finally consumed by torture and sorrow. If you do 
 not see the hand of Providence in all this, Pan Michael, your 
 intelligence is blunter than your sword; but it is a fact that 
 a man cannot possess all the virtues at the same time.' ' 
 
 "I Bee only one thing," said Volodiyovski, tugging at his 
 
522 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 moustache, "that there is nothing for us to do over there, 
 and that we must continue to remain here until we are com- 
 pletely dried up." 
 
 "I shall dry up sooner than you, for I am older than you, 
 and it is well known that a turnip shrinks and bacon be- 
 comes rusty from old age. Let us thank God that all our 
 cares seem to be coming to a happy termination. I have 
 worried not a little about the princess, more than you, at 
 any rate, and not less than Skshetuski; for she is my little 
 daughter, and I could not love my own child as well as I do 
 her. They even say that we are as alike as two goblets, but 
 I love her, in any case; and you would not see me as happy 
 or peaceful as I am, if I were not confident that her misery 
 will shortly come to an end. To-morrow, I will begin to 
 compose an epithalamium, for I write beautiful poetry, and 
 have only lately slighted Apollo for Mars." 
 
 "What have we to do with Mars?" answered Volodiyovski. 
 "May the devil take the traitor Kisiel, with all the com- 
 missioners and their negotiations. There will be peace in 
 the spring as sure as two and two are four. Pan Podbipyenta, 
 who has spoken to the prince, says the same thing." 
 
 'Tan Longin understands as much about public affairs as 
 a goat does about pepper. He dangled at the court after 
 that crested lark, more than he did anything else, and stood 
 sentry over her like a setter before a covey of partridges. 
 God grant that someone else may snatch her away from 
 him — but that is of no consequence. I do not deny that 
 Kisiel is a traitor, the whole Commonwealth knows that well 
 enough, but as regards the negotiations, I think that old 
 witch prophesies equivocally." 
 
 Here Zagloba turned to the Cossack. 
 
 "And what do your people say, Zakhar? Is it war or 
 peace ?" 
 
 "There will be peace until the new grass grows; and in 
 spring it will be death and destruction — either to us or the 
 Poles." 
 
 "Be comforted. Pan Michael, I heard that the blacks were 
 arming everywhere." 
 
 "That will be such a war as has never yet been seen," said 
 Zakhar. "They say, with us, that the Turkish Sultan is 
 coming; and the Kian with all his hordes; and that our 
 friend Tukhay Bey is near the border and has never been 
 home." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 623 
 
 "Take comfort, Pan Michael,' 'repeated Zagloba, "there 
 is a prophesy of a new king, whose whole reign will be filled 
 with blor'dshed. So it is probable that it will be a long 
 time before we can sheathe our swords. We shall be worn 
 out from constant war, as a broom is by constant sweeping; 
 but that is the lot of a soldier. When we begin to fight 
 again, keep near me. Pan Michael, and you will see glorious 
 deeds and learn how we fought in former, better times. My 
 God! people are no longer what they used to be; you, your- 
 self, are not, Pan Michael, although you are a fierce soldier, 
 and killed Bohun." 
 
 "You are right, sir," said Zakhar, "there are no such men 
 as there used to be." 
 
 And he looked at Volodiyovski searchingly and shook his 
 head. 
 
 "But that this knight should have killed Bohun — no, no, 
 I cannot believe it." 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Old Zakhar returned to Kiev after resting a few days ajid, 
 during this time, news was received that the commissioners 
 had returned home without any great Hope of peace; indeed, 
 they almost despaired of it. They had only succeeded in ar- 
 ranging a truce to last till the Russian Whitsuntide; and then 
 a new commission would undertake to conclude negotiations, 
 with the whole army at their back. Khmyelnitski's condi- 
 tions and demands were so mountain-like that no one be- 
 lieved that the Commonwealth would accept them; conse- 
 quently, both sides made preparations for arming themselves 
 completely. 
 
 Khm^-elnitski sent one envoy after another to the Khan, 
 requesting him to come to him with all his forces; he sent 
 also to Stambul, where Pan Byechinski had been staying for 
 some' time, as an envoy from the king. In the Common- 
 wealth, a call for a general arming was expected at any mo- 
 ment. Xews was received of the appointment of new leaders; 
 Ostorog, Lantskorontski and Firley and of the absolute re- 
 tirement of Prince Yeremy Yishnyovyetski from all military 
 affairs. He could henceforth only protect the mother coun- 
 try with the assistance of his own troops. Not the Prince's 
 soldiers alone, not cnly the nobility of Russia, but even the 
 supporters of the former Commanders were indignant at this 
 selection and slight; for they decided, justly, that, if Yish- 
 nyovyetski"s sacrifice had received recognition, as long as 
 there was a hope of negotiating; his retirement, in the event 
 of war, would have been an unpaxdohable mistake, as he, 
 alone, was competent to measure his strength with Khmy- 
 elnitski and to conquer this celebrated rebel leader. Finally, 
 the prince himself came to Zbaraj in order to collect as 
 many troops as possible and to stand prepared for war. A 
 truce had been concluded; but appeared futile from moment 
 to moment. Khymelnitski, indeed, beheaded several officers 
 here and there, when, in spite of the truce, they attacked 
 castles and troops; but he was powerless against the count- 
 624 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 625 
 
 less crowds of wandering "blacks" and marauders who, either 
 knew nothing of the truce, or did not wish to know, or were 
 perhaps ignorant of the very meaning of the word. These 
 flocked unceasingly into the territory that was protected by 
 the truce and thus set at naught all Khmyelnitski's promises. 
 On the other hand, private regiments and border soldiery, in 
 pursuit of the robbers, frequently crossed the Prypets and 
 Horyn into Kiev territory; or, in their zeal, hunted them 
 into the interior of the province of Bratslav, and-there> while 
 resisting Cossack attacks, fought regular battles, which were 
 carried on frequently with great energy and loss, of life. Con- 
 sequently, incessant disputes arose between the Poles and 
 Cossacks on account of breach of faith, which no one, in fact, 
 had the power to prevent. The truce existed therefore only 
 in so far as Khmyelnitski, himself, on one side, and the 
 king and the hetmans on the other did not take the field. 
 But war had actually begun before the authorities had en^ 
 gaged, and the first warm beams of the spring sun lighted np, 
 as formerly, burning villages, towns, and castles; and shone 
 on slaughter and human misery. 
 
 Whole bands of rebels came from Bar, Khmyelnik and 
 Makhnovka burning, plundering, and killing, close under 
 the walls of ZbaraJ. These were cut down by Yeremy's 
 officers by his orders, though he, himself, tok no part in 
 the petty battles; but was ready to move with his whole 
 force into the field, as soon as the hetman should do so. 
 He therefore sent out companies with orders to avenge blood 
 with blood, and robbery and murder with the stake. Among 
 others, Longin started out and fought at Charny Ostrov; but 
 he was only a knight terrible in battle; with the prisoners 
 he was so gentle that they did not send him out any more. 
 Volodiyovski, especially, distinguished himself in these ex- 
 peditions as a fighter, and perhaps had his equal only in 
 Vyershul. No one understood how to surprise the enemy with 
 such lightning speed, no one could creep up so unperceived 
 behind them and scatter them to the four winds in a total 
 rout, make prisoners, kill or hang them up; in short, he 
 struck terror all around and won the favor of the prince. 
 From the end of March to the middle of April, Volodiyovski 
 destroyed seven bands of freebooters, each of which was three 
 times as powerful as his own force. He never ceased fighting 
 and became more greedy for war, as though the sight 01 
 bloodshed gave him new energy. 
 
 40 
 
626 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 The little knight, or rather the little devil, never ceased 
 urging Zagloha to accompany him on these expeditions, for 
 he enjoyed his society above all things, but the more sedate 
 nobleman withstood aU his inducements, ajid excused his 
 inaction in the following manner: 
 
 "I have too big a belly for these shocks and violent exer- 
 tions. Pan Michael; and, besides, one man cannot do every- 
 thing. To hew my way with the hussars among the close 
 ranks of the enemy in the broad daylight, to destroy camps, 
 to conquer flags — that is in my line, that is what God created 
 and fitted me for; but nightly hunts among the bushes for 
 ragamufi&ns, I leave to you; for you are as slippery as an eel 
 and can get through anywhere. I am a knight of the old 
 days and would rather tear my prey, like the lion, than to 
 look for it behind the bushes like a pointer. And, besides, 
 I have to go to sleep immediately after supper, that is my 
 time to retire." 
 
 Pan Tolodiyovski rode off alone and conquered alone until 
 one day after setting out towards the end of April he re- 
 turned about the middle of May, sad and troubled, as though 
 he had suffered a defeat and lost his men. So it appeared 
 to all, but this was a mistaken surmise. On the contrary, 
 Volodiyovski had penetrated, during this long and difficult 
 expedition, as far as Holovni, beyond Ostrog and had found 
 there not an ordinary band of "blacks" but several hundred 
 Zaporojians, about half of whom he cut down and took the 
 others prisoners. Consequently, this deep sadness which 
 covered his naturally joyous face like a cloud, was the more 
 remarkable. Many wished to know the cause of it at once, 
 but Volodiyovski said not a word, but went, the instant he 
 dismounted, to a long interview with the Prince, accom- 
 panied by two unknown knights; and, after that, betook him- 
 self to Zagloba with the utmost haste, although several in- 
 quisitive friends tried to hold him back by the sleeve. 
 
 Zagloba looked with a certain astonishment at the two 
 gigantic men whom he had never seen before; the gold stripe 
 on whose shoulders showed that they belonged to the Lithu- 
 anian army. 
 
 Voldiyovski said, however, "Fasten the door, sir, and let 
 no one in, for we have weighty matters to talk over." 
 
 Zagloba gave his servant the order, then looked uneasily 
 at the new arrivals; judging from their manner that they had 
 nothing good to tell. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 627 
 
 "These," said Volodiyovski, pointing to the youths, "are 
 the princes Bulyhov-Kurtsevich, Yur and Andrey." 
 
 "Helena's cousins," cried Zagloba. The princes bowed, 
 and answered at the same moment, 
 
 "The cousins of the deceased Helena." 
 
 Zagloba's red face turned as pale as the sky; he threw up 
 his hands as though a bullet had struck him and, with gasp- 
 ing breath and glaring eyes — said, or rather, moaned: 
 
 "What do you say!" 
 
 "We have news that the princess was killed in the Convent 
 of St. Nicholas," said Volodiyovski sadly. 
 
 "The 'blacks' smoked out twelve young ladies and several 
 nuns in one cell, and our cousin was among these," added 
 Yur. 
 
 Zagloba answered nothing this time; but his face, just 
 now so pale, became so flushed that his friends feared a 
 stroke of apoplexy. Then his eyelids gradually drooped,, and 
 he covered his eyes with both hands; while from his lips came 
 a groan once more. 
 
 "Oh! what a world! what a world!" Then he was silent. 
 
 And the princes and Volodiyovski began to mourn. 
 
 "We have gathered relations and friends together to rescue 
 thee, sweetest maid," said the little knight, over and over 
 again, amid his sighs; "but we came too late with our assist- 
 ance. Our good intentions, our courage, our sword are in 
 vain, for thou dwellest now in another, better world than 
 this; in the train of the Queen of Heaven." 
 
 "Sister!" cried the gigantic Yur whose sorrow seized him 
 afresh, "forgive us our fault and we will, for every drop of 
 thy blood, shed a pail of the enemy's blood." 
 
 "And may God help us?" added Andrey. 
 
 Both men raised their arms to heaven. Zagloba rose from 
 the stool on which he was sitting, went out a few steps 
 towards the bed, staggered as though he were drunk and fell 
 on his knees before the crucifix. 
 
 Presently the castle bells chimed midday. They sounded 
 as mournful as though they were tolling for a funeral. 
 
 "She is no more," said Volodiyovski again. "The angels 
 have taken her to Heaven and left us only sighs and tears." 
 
 Zagloba's stout body was shaken with sobs while the 
 others kept on mourning. The bells continued ringing. 
 After a while, Zagloba became calmer and they thought he 
 had even fallen asleep on his knees. But it was not very long 
 
628 WITH FIRE A.YO SWORD. 
 
 before he raised himself from the ground and sat on the edge 
 of his bed. He was like another man, with his bloodshot 
 eyes and sunken head. His underlip hung down on his chin 
 and on his pallid face was an expression of bewilderment 
 and decrepitude unusual to him; so that it really appeared 
 as though the jovial, lively, and efEerveseing Zagloba had 
 died, and left in his place an old man, bowed with age and 
 weakness. 
 
 Presently Pan Longin stepped into the room in spite of 
 the protests of the servant who was watching the door, and 
 the moans and the sorrow began afresh. The Lithuanian 
 recollected Rozloga and his first meeting with the princess, 
 her sweetness, her youth and beauty: But, presently, it oc- 
 curred to him that there was some one who was far more 
 unhappy than any of them; and that was her betrothed, Pan 
 Skshetuski — ^and he began at once to ask the little knight 
 about him. 
 
 "Skshetuski remained with Prince Koretski in Korets 
 whither he came from Kiev and he is lying ill and uncon- 
 scious," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "And must we not go to him?" asked the Lithuanian. 
 
 "We should do no good there," answered Yolodiyovski. 
 "The prince's physician promises that he will get well; and 
 Pan Sukhodolski, one of Prince Dominik's officers, and a 
 great friend of Skshetuski's is there, and also our old Zats- 
 ^•ilikhovski; and they are both nursing him. He lacks noth- 
 ing and it is all the better for him that he is delirious."" 
 
 "Oh, almighty God," said the Lithuanian. "Did you see 
 Pan Skshetuski with your own eyes." 
 
 "I saw him; but if they had not told me who it was, 1 
 should not have recognized him. Pain and sickness have so 
 changed him." 
 
 "And did he recognize you?" 
 
 'TTes, indeed, he recognized me, although he said nothing; 
 but he smiled and nodded his head. And it made me so sad 
 that I could not stay any longer. Prince Koretski is coming 
 here with his regiment to Zbaraj, and Zatsvilikhovski is com- 
 ing with him and Pan Sukhodolski swears that he will also 
 go with them, even though he should receive contrary orders 
 from Prince Dominik. They want to bring Skshetuski here 
 also if he can survive the journey." 
 
 "And whence did you get the news of the princess' death?" 
 •asked Pan Longin. "Have these knights brought it per- 
 haps?" he added pointing to the princes. 
 
WITU t'lKE AND aWORU. 629' 
 
 "No, these knights learned it accidentally in Korets 
 whither they had gone from Vilna with messages from the 
 voyevoda; and now they have come here with me heeause they 
 have letters from the voyevoda to our prince. War is certain. 
 The commission of inquiry will have no results." 
 
 "We knew that also; but tell me, sir, who told you about 
 the death of the princess?" 
 
 "Zatsvilikhovski told me and he heard it from Skshetuski. 
 Khmyelnitski had given Skshetuski permission to search for 
 her in Kiev, -with the assistance of the Metropolitan. They 
 sought her chiefly in the nunneries, for all of our people 
 who remained in Kiev concealed themselves there. They 
 thought, also, that Bohun had placed the princess in a con- 
 vent. They searched and searched, and were quite cheerful 
 although they knew that the 'blacks' had burned out twelve 
 ynung girls in the convent of the good St. Nicholas. The 
 Metropolitan, himself, was confident that no one would dare 
 touch Bohun's beloved, until events proved otherwise." 
 
 "Then she was in the convent of the good St. Nicholas?" 
 
 "Yes. Skshetuski found in one convent Panna Yoakhima 
 Yerlicha concealed and, as he asked everyone about the 
 princess, he also asked her. She told him that all the 
 maidens had been carried away by the Cossacks and twelve 
 only had remained in the convent of St. Nicholas, which 
 was afterwards burned. Princess Kurtsevich must have been 
 among these. Skshetuski did not believe her at first, as she 
 was a refugee and was half crazy from terror. So he went 
 once more into the convent of the good Nicholas to seek her. 
 Unfortunately, the nuns, three of whom had been suffocated, 
 did not know her name; but, when they heard the description 
 of Skshetuski's princess, they said that such a one had been 
 there. Skshetuski at once left Kiev and fell ill." 
 
 "I am astonished that he is still alive." 
 
 "He certainly would have died, had it not been for that 
 old Cossack who took care of him during his imprisonment 
 in Sich and who 'brought us the letter from him, and on his 
 return again helped him to search. This man had him 
 taken to Korets and delivered him to Pan Zatsvilikhovski." 
 
 "May God preserve him, for he will never be comforted," 
 said Longin. 
 
 Volodiyovski was silent and no one uttered a word. The 
 princes sat with their elbows on the table with frowning fore- 
 heads, and perfectly motionless. Longin raised his eyes 
 
630 WITH FIRE AXD SWOBD. 
 
 heavenward. Zagloba fixed his glassy eye upon the opposite 
 wall, as though he were sunk in deep thought. 
 
 "Wake up, sir," said VolodiyovsM, presently, shaking him 
 by the shoulder, "What are you thinking of? You cannot 
 think up anything more and all your inventions lead to 
 nothing." 
 
 "I know that," answered Zagloba in a broken voice. "I 
 am only thinking that I am old and no longer of any use 
 in this world." 
 
CHAPTEE XXL 
 
 "Only think, sir," said Volodiyovski to Longin, a few days 
 later, "that this man changed so in one hour that he seemed 
 to be twenty years older. He was so joyous, so chatty, and 
 full of life, that Ulysses himself could hardly compare with 
 him. To-day, he hardly opens his mouth, but broods all 
 day long; complaining about his age and talking as if he 
 were in a dream. I knew that he loved her, but I did not 
 dream that he was so fond of her." 
 
 "It is not to be wondered at," answered the Lithuanian, 
 heaving a sigh. "He loves her all the more because he 
 rescued her from Bohun's hands, and experienced so many 
 dangers and adventures during his flight with her. There- 
 fore, so long as there was hope, he kept up and exerted his 
 ingenuity to save her. Now that there is actually nothing 
 more for him to do in this world, he feels lonely. His heart 
 has no object to which it can cling." 
 
 "I have already tried to get him to drink with me, in the 
 hope that drink might restore his former vigor — but that is 
 no good. He drinks, indeed, but does not think as he did 
 formerly; never tells of his deeds, but becomes maudlin; his 
 head sinks on his breast and he falls asleep. I do not 
 know if Pan Skshetuski is any more desperate than he is." 
 
 "It is an unutterable pity, for he was a great knight. Let 
 us go to him. Pan Michael. He liked to tease me and was 
 always gnawing at me. Perhaps it will please him to do so 
 now. My God! What may happen to a man! What a 
 jolly fellow he was." 
 
 "Let us go," said Volodiyovski. "It is indeed pretty late, 
 but at the worst it is only evening with him. He cannot 
 sleep at night, as he sleeps all day." 
 
 As they conversed thus, they went to Zagloba's quarters, 
 where they saw him sitting at the open window with his 
 head leaning on his hand. It was late. Everything was still 
 in the castle. The sentries alone called to one another in 
 drawling tones and in the bushes which separated the castle 
 
 631 
 
632 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 from the town, the nightingales filling the night with 
 melody singing, sighing and trilling, in such quick succession 
 that it was almost like a spring shower. Through the open 
 window, the warm hreath of May entered the room and the 
 bright mooonlight shone on Zagloba's troubled face and 
 bowed head. 
 
 "Good evening, sir," said the two knights. 
 
 "Good evening," answered Zagloba. 
 
 "What are you thinking of here at the window, instead of 
 going to sleep?" asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 Zagloba sighed. 
 
 "I am not sleepy," he said slowly. "It is just a year since 
 I fled from Bohun with her to the Kahamlik and these same 
 little birds were triUing then just as they are now; and 
 where is she now?" 
 
 "God has ordained it so," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Only tears and sorrow. Pan Michael, there is no longer 
 any consolation for me." 
 
 They were silent. Only the song of the nightingales which 
 filled the beautiful night came ever more clearly through the 
 open window. 
 
 "Oh God, God!" sighed Zagloba. "Just as it was at Ka- 
 hamlik." 
 
 Pan Longin shook a tear ofE his fair moustache, and the 
 little knight said, after a pause: 
 
 "Eh! Do yon know what, sir? Leave sorrow to its sorrow. 
 Drink with us a cup of mead, for there is nothing better as 
 a remedy for care. We will think of better times over our 
 glasses." 
 
 "Let us drink," said Zagloba resignedly. 
 
 Volodiyovski ordered the servant to bring a candle and 
 a flask of mead and, as he knew that the sight of the latter 
 was enough to enliven Zagloba, he asked: 
 
 "Then it is a year now since you fled with the poor little 
 one from Bohun in Rozloga?" 
 
 "It was in May, in ilay," answered Zagloba. "We passed 
 through Kahamlik to fly to Zolotonosha. Oh! how sad life 
 is!" 
 
 "And she was disguised?" 
 
 "As a Cossack. I had to cut off the poor girl's hair with 
 my sword to complete the disguise. I know the very spot 
 where I hid her tresses under a tree along with my sword." 
 
 "She was a sweet lady," said Longin sighing. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 633 
 
 "I tell you that I loved her from the first day as though 
 I had brought her up. And she only folded her little hands 
 and thanked me for rescuing and protecting her. I wish 
 they had cut me to pieces, rather than that I had lived to see 
 this day. I wish I were dead!" 
 
 Again there was a silence. The three knights drank their 
 mead mingled with tears, and then Zagloba continued: 
 
 "I thought to pass a peaceful old age near her and now 
 
 He let his hands fall helplessly. 
 
 "Where is there comfort but in the grave?" 
 
 But, before Zagloba had finished the last words, they heard 
 a noise in the hall. Some one was trying to get in and the 
 servant held him back. A loud argument arose and it seemed 
 to Volodiyovski as though he recognized a well-known voice, 
 and he called to the servant not to deny entrance. The door 
 was opened and, in the doorway appeared the puffy-cheeked 
 red face of Jendzian, who let his eyes wander over those 
 present, bowed himself and said: 
 
 "Praised be Jesus Christ!" 
 
 "For ever and ever," answered Volodiyovski. "You are 
 Jendzian?" 
 
 "That is my name," said the boy, "and I fall at your feet, 
 sir. Where is my master?" 
 
 "Your master is lying very ill in Korets." 
 
 "Oh, for God's sake, what are you saying, gracious sir! 
 And is he very sick? May God preserve him!" 
 
 "He was very sick, but now he is better. The doctor says 
 he will get well." 
 
 "For I have come with news to my master aibout the young 
 lady." 
 
 The little knight shook his head sadly. 
 
 "You hurried here for nothing, for Skshetuski knows about 
 her death already; and we have been shedding burning tears 
 on her account." 
 
 Jendzian's eyes nearly started from his head. 
 
 "Help! Help! What do I hear? The young lady is 
 dead?" 
 
 "She did not die, but was murdered in Kiev." 
 
 "In what Kiev? What are you saying, good sir?" 
 
 "In what Kiev? As if you did not know Kiev!" 
 
 "In God's name, gracious sir, you are joking! What 
 should she be doing in Kiev, when she was in the ravine near 
 
634 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 the Yaladynka not fax from EasKkov. The witch had orders 
 not to let her move one step from the ravine, until Bohiin"s 
 return. As true as God lives! This is enough to drive one 
 crazy." 
 
 "What kiad of witch?" What are you talking ahout?" 
 
 "Well, Horpyna. I know the virago." 
 
 Zagloba suddenly sprang to his feet, and beat the air fran- 
 tically with his hands; Uke one who is trying to save himself 
 from drowning. 
 
 "By the Living God, be silent!' 'he said to Volodiyovski. 
 "By God's wounds, let me question him!" 
 
 Those present were frightened, for Zagloba was deathly 
 pale. His forehead was covered with sweat. He jumped 
 over the bench towards Jendzian; and, seizing the boy by 
 the shoulders, asked in a hoarse voice. 
 
 'TVlio told you that she . . . was concealed near Rash- 
 kov?" 
 
 "None other than Bohun." 
 
 "Boy, are you crazy!" bellowed Zagloba, shaking him like 
 a pear-tree. "What Bohun?" 
 
 "For God's sake, why are you shaking me so, gracious sir," 
 cried Jendzian, "let me alone, let me collect myself; otherwise 
 you will turn my head. "RTiat Bohun! Does the gracious 
 Pan not know him then?" 
 
 "Speak, or I will stab you!" cried Zagloba again. "Where 
 did you see Bohun?" 
 
 "In AHodava. What do you gentlemen want of me," cried 
 the terrified boy. "Am I then a murderer? ..." 
 
 Zagloba was almost beside himself. He gasped for breath 
 and sank panting on the bench. Pan Michael ran to his as- 
 sistance. 
 
 '^When did you see Bohun?" he asked the boy. 
 
 "Three weeks ago." 
 
 "Then he is alive?" 
 
 '^Why should he not be alive? He told me himself how 
 the gracious Pan had wounded him, but he managed to get 
 over it. . . " 
 
 "And he told you the young lady was near Eashkov?" 
 
 "Who else would have told me?" 
 
 "Listen, Jendzian. It is a question here of the life of 
 your master and of the young lady. Did Bohun tell you him- 
 self, that she was not in Kiev?" 
 
 "No, gracious sir. How could she be in Kiev, when he 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 535 
 
 had concealed her near Rashkov, and forbidden Horpyna, 
 on pain of death, to let her escap6; and given me his ring 
 and a safe-conduct, that I might ride to where she is; for 
 his wounds had opened afresh and he is obliged to lie still, 
 for I know not how long." 
 
 Jendzian's further speech was interrupted by Zagloba, who 
 sprang up again; and, seizing with both hands the few re- 
 maining hairs on his head, began to scream like a madman. 
 
 "My little daughter is alive! By God's wounds, she lives! 
 It was not she who was killed in Kiev; she lives, she lives, 
 my beloved!" 
 
 And the old man, stamped his feet, laughed, sobbed and, 
 finally, seized Jendzian's head and pressed it to his breast 
 and kissed him so hard, that the boy almost lost his head. 
 
 "Let me be, good sir ... I am almost choked. Of 
 course she lives. If God is willing, we can go together to 
 fetch her. Please sir, oh, that hurts good sir!" 
 
 "Let him go, sir, let him explain; we cannot understand 
 everything," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Speak, speak!" cried Zagloba. 
 
 "Tell us all, from the beginning, little brother," said 
 Longin, on whose moustache was a heavy dew. 
 
 "Allow me, sirs, to get my breath first and to shut the 
 window, for those nightingales are singing so in the bushes 
 that one cannot understand a single word." 
 
 "Mead!" cried Volodiyovski to the servant. 
 
 Jendzian, with the deliberation peculiar to himself, shut 
 the window; then, turning to those present, he said: "Will 
 the gentlemen allow me to sit down, for I am tired?" 
 
 "Sit down!" said Volodiyovski, pouring him out a glass 
 of mead from the bottle which the servant had just brought 
 in. "Drink with us, for you have deserved it for your news; 
 but tell us quickly." 
 
 "This is good mead," said the boy, holding the glass to 
 the light. 
 
 "May you be cut to pieces! Will you talk!" scolded Za- 
 globa. 
 
 "Ah, the gracious Pan gets angry so quickly. I will talk 
 if the gentlemen desire it, for my business is to obey; that 
 is why I serve. But I see, already, that I must begin from 
 the beginning and tell everything exactly." 
 
 "Begin at the beginning!" 
 
 "You remember, gentlemen, that when the news came of 
 
636 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 the taking of Bar, we thought it was all up with the young 
 lady. At that time, I returned to Jendziani, to my parents 
 and to my grandfather, who is already — diet's see — ninety, 
 no ninety-one years old." 
 
 "Xine hundred so far as I am concerned," grumbled Za- 
 globa. 
 
 "God grant that he may live as long as possible! I thank 
 the kind gentleman for his good word," answered Jendzian. 
 "Well, I went home to take my parents what I had, by God's 
 help, collected among the banditti — for the gentlemen must 
 know that the Cossacks had kept me in Chigrin the year be- 
 fore, for they took me for one of themselves; and I nursed the 
 wounded Bohun while there and became very confidential 
 with him. And from those robbers I got some silver and a 
 few jewels."' 
 
 "We know, we know," said Yolodiyovski. 
 
 "Well, I came to my parents, who were very glad to see 
 me, and could not believe their eyes when I shewed them all 
 I had collected. I had to swear to my grandfather that I 
 had gained it all honestly. At first they were particularly 
 delighted; for, the gentlemen must know, they have a law- 
 suit with the Tavorski on account of a pear-tree, half of 
 whose branches stretch over on the Yavorski land and half 
 on ours. So, when the Yavorski shake the tree our pears 
 also fall off and some fall on the boundary-line. They say 
 that those on the boundary-line belong to them, and we 
 
 "Do not make me angr}', fellow!" said Zagloba. "And 
 talk of nothing but what concerns this affair." 
 
 "First, with your permission, good sir, I am no fellow; but 
 a nobleman with a eoat-of-arms, althougli^ I am poor; to 
 which Pan Yolodiyovski and Pan Longin, as friends of Pan 
 Skshetuski, can testify. And, secondly, the lawsuit has been 
 going on for fifty years. . . " 
 
 Zagloba closed his teeth tightly and undertook not to speak 
 another word. 
 
 "Well, my little fish," said Longin sweetly, "but you must 
 tell us about Bohun, not about pears." 
 
 "About Bohun?"' said Jendzian. "Well, then, about Bo- 
 hun. Well — Bohun thinks, sir, that he has no more faithful 
 friend and servant than myself, although he almost cut me 
 through the body in Chigrin. But I really watched and 
 nursed him after the princes Kurtsevich had wounded him 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 637 
 
 SO badly. I lied to him then, and said that I was sick of 
 serving noblemen and would rather be with the Cossacks, 
 because there was more to be gained with them; and he be- 
 lieved me. Why should he not believe me when I cured 
 him? He grew very fond of me and to tell the truth he 
 rewarded me generously; but, without knowing, of course, 
 that I had made a vow to avenge myself for the insult I 
 had received in Chigrin. The only reason I did not kill 
 him for that was, that it did not seem fitting for a nobleman 
 to stab a sick enemy in his bed as though he were a pig." 
 
 "Well, well," said Volodiyovski, "we know all about that. 
 But how did you come across him this time?" 
 
 "Well, see here, sir, it was like this. When we had put the 
 thumb screws on the Yavorski (they would have to go beg, 
 there was no help for it) I thought to myself, 'well, now, 
 it is time for me to look for Bohun and settle with him for 
 what he did to me.' I told my parents my secret and also 
 my grandfather, who, with his sense of chivalry, said to 
 me, 'If you have sworn to do it, you must go, or you would 
 be a fool.' I set out, therefore, for I also thought that if I 
 found Bohun I might perhaps hear something about the 
 young lady, whether she was alive; and I also thought that 
 if I were to shoot him dead and bring my master the news, 
 I should not go unrewarded." 
 
 "Certainly not, and we will reward you also," said Volo- 
 diyovski. 
 
 "And from me, little brother, you will get a horse and 
 bridle," added Longin. 
 
 "I thank you, humbly, gracious sirs,' said the delighted 
 boy. "It is true that one generally gives a reward in return 
 for good news, and I never drink up what is given me. . . " 
 
 "The devil!" grunted Zagloba. 
 
 "Well, then, you rode away from home ..." added 
 Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Well, I rode away from home," continued Jendzian, "and 
 I thought to myself, 'whither now? why not to ZbaraJ, for 
 Bohun is not far from there and I could find out about my 
 master?' So I rode,'good sir; I rode past Byala and Vlodava. 
 When I reached Vlodava, the horses were rather tired and 
 I stopped to feed them. It was fair time there, and all the 
 inns were full of noblemen. I went to the citizens' houses, 
 they were also full of noblemen. Then a Jew told me I 
 could have had a room with him, but a wounded nobleman^ 
 
638 n/rfl FIRE AXD aWORD. 
 
 had just taken it. 'That's just the thing' I said, for I under- 
 stand bandaging, and your barber-surgeon is probably so 
 busy during fair time that he has not time to turn round. 
 The Jew told me that the nobleman attended to himself and 
 would not allow anyone into his room; but he went to ask 
 him. The fellow inside must have been feeling pretty sick, 
 for he let me enter. I stepped into the room and, who should 
 1 see there, lying in bed, but — Bohun! I crossed myself, in 
 the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost; 
 I was so dreadfully frightened. And he recognized me at 
 once, and was perfectly delighted to see me (for he thought 
 I was his friend) and said 'God has sent thee to me; now I 
 shall not die.' And I said, 'what brought you here, gra- 
 cious sir?" But he put his iinger on his lips and it was not 
 till later that he told me < f his adventure; how Khmyelnitski 
 had sent him to His Majesty the King in Zamost, and how 
 Lieutenant Volodiyovski had done for him in Lipki." 
 
 "Did he think of me with affection?"' asked the little 
 knight. 
 
 "I must say, gracious sir, that he spoke very kindly, 'I 
 thought,' said he, 'that he was scrapings, a mongrel; but he 
 is a fighter of the first class, and almost cut me in two,' 
 but he speaks worse than ever of Pan Zagloba. He grinds 
 his teeth with rage to think that Pan Zagloba dragged him 
 into that fight." 
 
 "The hangman take him! I am not afraid of him now," 
 said Zagloba. 
 
 "We soon got back to our old confidential footing,' con- 
 tinued Jendzian, "or even more confidential. He told me 
 everything; how near he had come to dying; how they had 
 taken him for a nobleman and, consequently, had taken him 
 in at the country house at Lipki, and that he had given his 
 name as Pan Hulevich from Podolia, how they had cured 
 him and had treated him ^ith the greatest kindness, and that 
 he had made a vow of gratitude to them till his dying day." 
 
 "And what was he doing in Vlodava?" 
 
 "He was on his way to Volhynia but in Parcelva his wounds 
 opened again, for his carriage had overt^irned. He had to 
 remain behind, therefore; although he was very much afraid 
 to do so, as he might be discovered and killed. He told 
 me this himself. 'I was sent out with letters,' he said 'but 
 now I have no credentials, only the safe-conduct; and if they 
 should discover who I am, not only the nobles would hack 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 639 
 
 me to pieces, but that charming colonel would have me 
 strung up without asking permission.' I remember that 
 when he said that to me I answered '1 am glad to know that 
 any arbitrary colonel may string one up' and he asked 'Why 
 is that?' I said, 'So that I may be careful and not tell any- 
 thing I know — and I am telling you this for yourself, sir.' 
 Then, he began to thank me and to assure me of his grati- 
 tude and also that he would not fail to reward me. 'I have 
 no money just now' he said 'but whatever Jewels I have shall 
 be yours; and, later on, I will shower you with gold, but do 
 me one favor.' " 
 
 "Ah, now we are getting to the princess," said Volo- 
 diyovski. 
 
 "You are right, sir. I must tell everything in order. When 
 he told me then that he no money, I lost all compassion for 
 him and thought to myself, 'wait awhile, I will serve you!' 
 And he said 'I am sick, I have no strength to travel, and 
 a long and dangerous road is ahead of me. If could only 
 get to Volhynia — and that is not far, I should be with my 
 own people. But, yonder, along the Dniester, I cannot 
 travel; for I am not strong enough. And, besides, one has 
 to go through the enemy's country, castles and troops — you 
 go in my place.' I asked him, 'And whither?' He answered 
 'To the vicinity of Eashkov, for she is hidden there with 
 Donyet's sister, Horpyna, the witch.' I said, 'the princess?' 
 'Yes,' he answered, 'she is concealed so that no human eye 
 can discover her; but she fares well and sleeps on gold bro- 
 cade, like the Princess Vishnyovyetski.' " 
 
 "Speak faster, for God's sake!" cried Zagloba. 
 
 "What is sudden is of the Devil," answered Jendzian. 
 "Wellj when I heard that, gracious sirs, I rejoiced greatly, 
 but I did not show it and said, 'And is she really ther^ '' It 
 must be a long time since you took here there.' He began 
 to assure me that Horpyna was his faithful wench, and would 
 keep her there, if necessary, ten years until he should return; 
 and that the princess was truly there, as true as that God is 
 in heaven, and that neither Poles, nor Tartars, nor Cossacks 
 could come near her and that Horpyna would obey his com- 
 mands." 
 
 As Jendzian was telling this. Pan Zagloba shook as with 
 a chill, the little knight nodded his head in satisfaction, and 
 Podbipyenta looked up to heaven. 
 
 "It is quite certain that she is there," continued the boy, 
 
640 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "and the best proof of it is that he sent me to her. But I 
 restrained myself at iirst, that he might notice nothing, and 
 said: 'But why should I go there?' He answered, 'Because 
 I cannot go. If,' he said, 'I escape with my hfe from "\1o- 
 dava and reach Volhynia I wUl have myself carried to Kiev, 
 for our Cossacks are all over that country. And you,' he 
 said, 'ride and command Horpyna to drire the princes:? 
 thither and place her in the convent of the Holy Virgin.' '"' 
 
 "What then she did not go to the convent of Saint 
 Xicholas?" broke in Zagloba. "I said at once that Yerlieha 
 was crazy or was telling a lie." 
 
 "To the convent of the Holy Virgin," repeated Jendzian. 
 " 'I will give you this ring,' he said, 'and a safe-conduct and 
 the knife — and Horpyna will know what that means, for 
 we arranged it. And another proof that you are sent me by 
 God,' he said, 'is that she knows you and knows that you are 
 my best friend. Go at once to her; and do not fear the 
 Cossacks; but beware of the Tartars. "Wherever you hear 
 of any, avoid them, for they do not respect the safe-conduct. 
 In a certain spot in the ravine, there is money buried, ducats; 
 take it with you in any case. On the way you can say it is 
 Bohun's wife — and you will want for nothing. Besides,' he 
 said, 'the witch will know what to do as soon as you come 
 from me; for whom can I send, unhappy man that I am, 
 whom can I trust in a strange land, among enemies?' . 
 "Well, sirs, he begged me, amidst a torrent of tears, and, 
 finally, I allowed the beast to make me swear that I would go. 
 I swore, right enough, but added, in my mind, with my 
 lord!' He was quite happy, then, and gave me the safe-eon- 
 duet, the ring, and the knife and all the jewels he had with 
 him. I took them, for I thought they would be safer with 
 me than with a marauder. At parting, he told me which 
 ravine it was near the Yaladynka, how I must ride, and in 
 what direction I must turn; all so exactly that I could have 
 found my way there blindfolded. And the gentlemen will 
 see that I am speaking the truth if they, as I think, will set 
 out at once." 
 
 "Directly, to-morrow!" said Volodiyovski. 
 
 ""U'hat, to-morrow! To-day, by daybreak, the horses will 
 be saddled." 
 
 Joy took possession of all hearts and was expressed in 
 words of gratitude to heaven, in joyful rubbing of hands, and 
 in ever fresh questionings of Jendzian; to which Jendzian 
 answered with his accustomed self-possession. 
 
WITH FIBEAND SWORD. 641 
 
 "May the balls strike you!" cried Zagloba. "What a ser- 
 vant Skshetuski has in you!"' 
 
 "How so?" asked Jendzian. 
 
 "He will cover you with gold." 
 
 "I think that I have deserved something, although I served 
 my master faithfully without any reward." 
 
 "And what did you do with Bohun?" asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 "That was just what bothered me, gracious sirs, that he 
 was ill again and I could not stab him; for my ;master would 
 have scolded me. That is fate, what could I do? See here, 
 when he had already told me everything that I was to say 
 and had given me what he had to give, I reflected, 'Why,' 
 said I to myself, 'should such a knave, who has kept the 
 princess prisoner and who cut me down in Chigrin, be per- 
 mitted to go free in the world. The hangman take him! It 
 would be better if he were not in the world.' And then I 
 thought that he might get well and ride after me with the 
 Cossacks. But I set out, without reflecting any longer, to 
 find Colonel Eogovski, who is stationed with the regiment 
 in Vlodava and informed him that this man was Bohun, the 
 worst rebel of all. By this time they must have hanged him." 
 
 As he said this, Jendzian laughed foolishly and lopked 
 round him as though he expected the others to follow his 
 example; but was much astonished at receiving no response. 
 
 Not for some minutes did Zagloba growl: "That is of no 
 consequence." Volodiyovski, however, sat quite still, and 
 Longin clacked his tongue, shook his head and said finally: 
 
 "That was not a nice thing to do, little brother, as one says, 
 not nice." 
 
 "How so, gracious sir?" asked Jendzian in astonishment. 
 "Would it have been better for me to stab him?" 
 
 "That would not have been nice either, not at all; but I 
 do not know if it is not better to be a murderer than a Judas." 
 
 "What are you saying, sir? Did Judas betray a rebel? 
 This man is the worst enemy of the king and of the whole 
 Commonwealth." 
 
 "That may be, but all the same, it was not nice. And 
 what was the name of that colonel, speak." 
 
 "Eogovski, they said his first name was Jacob." 
 
 "It is the same," murmured the Lithuanian, Pan Lashch's 
 relative, Skshetuski's enemy." 
 
 But no one heard this remark, for Zagloba began to speak. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "this matter will bear no delay. 
 
 41 
 
642 WITH FIRE A2fD SWORD. 
 
 God, through this boy, has ordained and arranged everything, 
 so that we may seek the princess now, under better condi- 
 tions than ever, God be praised! To-morrow we must set 
 out. The prince, indeed, is not here, but we will undertake 
 the journey without leave; for we have no time to waste. 
 Pan Volodiyovski will go, and Jendzian and I will accompany 
 him; and you. Pan Podbipyenta had better stay here, for 
 your size and your simpUeity might betray us." 
 
 "Xo, brother, I will go too," said the Lithuanian. 
 
 'Tor the sake of her safety, you must remain here. Who- 
 ever has once seen you never forgets you during his life- 
 time. We have a safe-conduct, it is true; but, even with the 
 safe-conduct they would not trust you. You killed Pulyan 
 before the eyes of the whole rebel mob, and if such a bean- 
 pole should appear among them, they would recognize it 
 again. It must not be, you cannot go with us, you will not 
 fmd your three heads there, and your own head is of not 
 much use. It were better to remain here than to imperil the 
 undertaking." 
 
 "I am sorry," said the Lithuanian. 
 
 "Sorry, or not sorry, you must remain here. If we ever 
 go birdsnesting, we will take you with us; but not now." 
 
 "That does not sound nice." 
 
 "Give me your snout, for my heart is very joyful; but 
 remain here. Only one thing more, sirs, a matter of the 
 greatest importance; keep the secret, that it may not reach 
 the soldiers and, through them, the people; say not a word 
 to anyone" 
 
 "Bah! And the prince?" 
 
 "The prince is not here." 
 
 "And Pan Skshetuski, if he returns?" 
 
 "Xot a word to him above all; he would immediately fol- 
 low us. He win have plenty of time for happiness, and God 
 preserve him from a fresh disappointment; he would lose 
 his reason. On your word of honor, gentlemen, not a syllable 
 about this matter." 
 
 "On the word of a knight," said Podbiyenta. 
 
 "On our word! on our word!" 
 
 "And, now, let us thank God!" 
 
 Zagloba first knelt down, the others followed his example, 
 and they prayed long and earnestly. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The prince had, several days before this, actually ridden to 
 Zamost to enlist new regiments. He was not expected to re- 
 turn just yet, soi Volodiyovski, Zagloba, and Jendzian set out 
 in absolute silence, not betraying their secret to anyone. And 
 of all those that remained in Zbaraj, Longin was the only 
 one who knew it. But in accordance with his knightly word, 
 he was silent as though bewitched. 
 
 Vyershul and the other officers who knew of the death of 
 the princess, did not suspect that the Journey of Zagloba 
 and the little knight had anything to do with the betrothed 
 of the unfortunate Skshetuski; but believed that the two 
 friends were riding to visit him himself, especially as Jend- 
 zian was with them and they all knew that he was Skshe- 
 tuski's servant. 
 
 The friends went directly to Khlebanovka, to make their 
 preparations there for their journey. 
 
 The first thing Zagloba did was to buy, with money that 
 he had borrowed from Longin, five strong Podolian horses, 
 fit to stand long journeys; such as were used by the Polish 
 cavalry and the Cossack captains. Such a horse could chase 
 a Tartar pony the whole day long, and was even more swift 
 than, the Turkish horses; and was to be preferred to them 
 on account of his greater endurance in changes of weather, 
 cold nights and rain. So Zagloba bought five such steeds 
 and, besides, he bought for himself, his companions, and 
 also for the princess, costly Cossack garments. Jendzian 
 busied himself with the horses' harness; and, as soon as every- 
 thing was thought of and in readiness, they set out on their 
 way, commending their undertaking to God and Saint Nicho- 
 las, the patron of virgins. 
 
 Disguised as they were, they might easily have been 
 taken for Cossack atamans, and it often occurred that they 
 were stopped by soldiers from the Polish quarters, and by the 
 Polish watches, until they got some distance beyond Kam- 
 enets. But Zagloba soon set himself right with these. For 
 
 643 
 
644 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 some time, they rode through a safe country, which was 
 occupied by the regiments of Lantskorontski, who kept draw- 
 ing nearer to Bar in order to keep his eye on the Cossack com- 
 panies who were collecting there. It was already generally 
 known that no negotiations would take place, and war hung 
 over the land; although the principal powers had not vet 
 made a move. The truce of Pereyaslav would not come to 
 an end at Whitsuntide; the skirmishes between the companies 
 of scouts had never ceased, and became daily more serious. 
 Each side was only waiting for the battle-cry. Meanwhile, 
 spring was advancing in the steppes; the trampled and down- 
 trodden earth was once more covered with the carpet of grass 
 and blossoms, which had grown up from the bodies of the 
 fallen knights. The larks soared in the air above the battle- 
 fields. Flocks of birds mounted, screaming, into the clouds. 
 The frozen waters once more gathered and formed a gleaming 
 scaly coat of mail beneath the warm breath of the wind, and, 
 in the evening, frogs splashed in the water and carried on 
 their joyful dialogues until late at night. 
 
 It seemed as though Xature, herself, desired to heal the 
 wounds; to still the sorrows; and to conceal with flowers the 
 grave-mounds of the war. Light shone in heaven and on the 
 earth. The whole steppes, fresh, joyous, and full of life, 
 gleamed like a glorious picture, and shimmered in all colors 
 of the rainbow, like a gold brocade, or like a wide Polish 
 girdle, upon which all the colors have been embroidered in 
 harmonious relation to each other. The steppes were joyous 
 with the song of birds; and a wide wave of warm air 
 streamed across them, drjring the moist places and browning 
 the faces of men. 
 
 At such a time, every heart is full of joy, and a boundless 
 sense of confidence fills all breasts. It was thus with our 
 knights, who looked into the future with happy confidence. 
 Yolodiyovski sang incessantly. Zagloba stretched himself 
 out on his horse and ofEered his back with full enjoyment to 
 the warm rays of the sun; and, when he was thoroughly 
 warmed through, he said to the little knight: 
 
 "I feel so well; for to tell the truth, next to mead and 
 Hungarian wine, there is nothing better for old joints, than 
 the sun." 
 
 "It is good for everything," answered Volodiyovski, "for 
 even the animals love to warm themselves in the sun." 
 
 "It is fortunate that we are travelling just at this time to 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 645 
 
 the princess," continued Zagloba, "it would have been hard 
 to travel with her in winter, in the frost." 
 
 "If we only once get her into our hands, I am a rogue if 
 she ever escapes me again." 
 
 "I must tell you. Pan Michael," said Zagloba, "that I 
 fear only one thing; and, that is, that if the war should 
 break out, the Tartars would flood the country and attack 
 us. But I do not fear the Cossacks. We shall not need 
 to explain ourselves to the Cossacks; for you have noticed 
 have you not, that they take us for leaders. The Zaporojians 
 honor the safe-conduct, and Bohun's name is our protection." 
 
 "I know the Tartars, for, among the gentlemen in Lubni, 
 our life passed in incessant skirmishes with them. Vyershul 
 and I never had any rest on account of them," said Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 "I know them too," said Zagloba. "I have told you, be- 
 fore now, that I passed many years among them, and might 
 have attained rank and dignity in their midst; but, as I did 
 not wish to become a heathen, I had to throw over every- 
 thing, for they were about to make me die the death of a 
 martyr, because I tried to convert their oldest priest to the 
 only saving faith." 
 
 "You told us once, sir, that you were in Galatz." 
 
 "That is a matter by itself, and also that I was in the 
 Crimea. But, if you think that the world ends with Galatz, 
 you do not know where pepper grows. There are more sons 
 of Beliel than Christians in that country." 
 
 Jendzian here joined in the conversation. 
 
 "It is not only from the Tartars that we must apprehend 
 danger," he said, "I have not yet told the gentlemen what 
 Bohun told me that the glen was guarded by frightful 
 monsters. The giantess herself, who guards the princess, 
 is a witch, in compact with the devil; and who can tell if 
 she may not have received warning of our approach. I have 
 a bullet, it is true, which I cast above some consecrated 
 bread, which will break everything that strikes it; but she 
 has, besides, whole regiments of ghosts and vampires guard- 
 ing the entrance. The gentlemen must vouch with their 
 lives that no evil shall happen to me, for otherwise I should 
 lose my reward." 
 
 "You great dunce," said Zagloba; "as if we had nothing to 
 do but to think of your life. The devil will not wring your 
 neck; but, if he should do so, it would not matter, for you 
 
646 WITE FIRE AyO 8W0BD. 
 
 would have deserved it by your avarice. I am too old a 
 sparrow to be caught with chaff. And, mark this, if Hor- 
 pyna is a witch, I am a still more mighty wizard; for 1 
 learned the black art in Persia. She serves the devils, but 
 the devils serve me. I can plough with them as with oxen 
 if I wish it, but I have my soul's salvation to think of." 
 
 "That is right, gracious sir; but, for this once, make use 
 of your power, for it is always better to be on the safe side." 
 
 "And I," said Volodiyovski, "have more confidence in our 
 good cause and in G-od's protection. May the devils watch 
 over Bohun and Horpyna; but with us are the Heavenly 
 Hosts, whom the mightiest powers of Hell cannot resist. 
 For this occasion, I will sacrifice seven candles of white wax 
 to the Holy Archangel Michael." 
 
 "I will add one more," said Jendzian, "so that Pan Zagloba 
 may not frighten me with perdition." 
 
 "I will be the first to send you to Hell," answered the 
 nobleman, "if it should prove that you do not know the exact 
 spot." 
 
 "How should I not know it? As soon as we get to the 
 Valadynka, I can find the glen with my eyes blindfolded. 
 We must ride along the bank towards the Dniester and the 
 glen is to our right, we shall recognize it because the en- 
 trance is blocked by a rock. At first sight, it appears as 
 though one could not enter; but there is a cleft in the rock, 
 through which two horses can ride abreast. If we once get 
 there, no one can escape us, for it is the only exit from the 
 glen; and all around are such high walls of rock than even 
 a bird can scarcely fly over them. The witch kills people 
 who try to enter the glen without permission. There are 
 many skeletons there; but Bohun told me not to mind that, 
 but to keep on riding and calling Bohun! Bohun! 
 Then, only, will she receive us as friends. Besides Horpyna, 
 there is Cheremis who is a good archer. We must kill them 
 both." 
 
 "I agree with you as to Cheremis but the woman — we will 
 bind her." 
 
 "If the gracious gentlemen could only do it! She is so 
 strong that she tears a coat of armor as if it were a shirt 
 and crushes a horseshoe in her hand. Podbipyenta is the 
 only one who might conquer her, but not we. Let be, 
 sir, I have a charmed bullet for her — may it bring the last 
 hour to this devil woman; otherwise she might follow us 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 
 
 647 
 
 like a she-wolf and howl till all the Cossacks awoke; and 
 then we should not only be unable to save the young lady, 
 but also our own heads." 
 
 Amid such conversations and counsels, the journey passed. 
 They hurried forward through towns, settlements, farms, 
 and grave-mounds. Their way led past Yarmolints towards 
 Bar where they first turned off in the direction of Yampol 
 and towards the Dniester. They came through the region 
 where Volodiyovski had once wounded Bohun and delivered 
 Pan Zagloba from his hands; they found the very same farm- 
 house and remained there over night. Sometimes, they had 
 to take up their quarters for the night in the open air on 
 the steppes; and then Zagloba would vary the monotony and 
 the silence by relating his former adventures, some that he 
 had really experienced and others that had no existence. But 
 the conversation turned chiefly on the princess, her imprison- 
 ment with the witch 'and the rescue that was awaiting her. 
 
 When they had finally left behind them the territory that 
 was under the care of Lantskoronski's soldiers, they came 
 into the territory of the Cossacks, in which not a single Pole 
 was left alive. Those who had not fled, had been destroyed 
 with flre and sword. May had come to an end and it was now 
 the warm month of June; but they had hardly travelled a 
 third of their journey for the road was long and full of 
 difficulties. Fortunately, they anticipated no danger from 
 the Cossacks; they had no difficulty with the wandering 
 bands who took them for Zaporojian chiefs; nevertheless, 
 they were asked who they were from time to time, and then 
 Zagloba, if the interrogator were a Nijov would show Bo- 
 hun's safe-conduct. But if he were an ordinary "black," he 
 did not dismount, but kicked him in the chest with his 
 foot so that he fell on the ground. The others who saw 
 this, at once gave them a free passage; for they believed 
 that they were not only friends, but persons of high position, 
 since they beat them. "Perhaps it is Kshyvonos Burlay or 
 even Khmyelnitski, the little father himself," they would 
 say. 
 
 The only thing that annoyed Zagloba was the fact of 
 Bohun's fame; for the incessant questions about him were 
 very tiresome and also delayed them, as they were usually de- 
 tained some time while answering them. Would the ques- 
 tions never cease? 'Did he live? was he well?' For the news 
 of his death had reached Yaborlik and beyond the rapids. 
 
648 WITH FIRE Ayo SWORD. 
 
 And when the travellers answered that he was well and in 
 freedom and that they were his messengers, they were kissed 
 and entertained hospitably. All hearts and, even all purses, 
 were opened to them; which Skshetuski's cunning servant 
 did not fail to turn to his own advantage. 
 
 In Yampol, Burlay received them. He had come here with 
 his Ni] soldiers and the "blacks" to wait for the Budziak 
 Tartars. He was an old and famous commander, who had 
 instructed Bohun, years before in military matters; had ac- 
 companied him in his expeditions to the Black Sea, and, to- 
 gether with him, set fire to Sinope. He, therefore, loved him 
 like a son and received his messengers without the slightest 
 mistrust, especially as he had seen Jendzian with him the 
 previous year; and, when he learned that Bohun was alive 
 and was going to Volhynia, he gave the messengers a feast 
 to show his joy, and got quite drunk. Zagloba feared that 
 Jendzian, who was also slightly drunk, might let out their 
 secret; but the foxy young rascal knew enough to tell the 
 truth only when it was advisable, without endangering their 
 expedition; and thus he gained their full confidence. The 
 two knights were amused at this wonderful conversation of 
 Jendzian's; especially as during the whole time, their names 
 were continually repeated by him, with a most obstinate 
 rashness. 
 
 "We heard,"' said Burlay, "that Bohun was wounded in a 
 duel; do you know who fought him?" 
 
 "Volodiyovski, an officer of Prince Yeremy's," answered 
 Jendzian quietly. 
 
 "Oh, if he could only fall into my hands, I would pay him 
 out 'or our falcon; I would fiay him!" 
 
 Volodiyovski twitched his yellow moustache and looked 
 at Burlay, as a hound looks at the wolf at whose throat he 
 dare not spring. 
 
 Jendzian continued, "That is just why I am telling you his 
 name, colonel." 
 
 "The devil will enjoy getting hold of that boy," thought 
 Zagloba. 
 
 "But," confined Jendzian, "he is not so much to blame; 
 for Bohun challenged him, himself, without knowing with 
 whom he had to deal. There was another nobleman there, 
 Bohun's greatest enemy; who hand once already rescued the 
 princess from his hands." 
 
 "And who was that?" 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 649 
 
 "An old sot, who attached himself to our ataman in Chi- 
 grin and pretended friendship for him." 
 
 "He will be hanged!" cried Burlay. 
 
 "May I be called a fool, if I do not cut off that fellow's 
 ear," murmured Zagloba. 
 
 "They wounded him so," continued Jendzian, "that, had 
 it been anyone else, the crows would long since have pecked 
 at him. But our ataman has a soul of steel; he will get well, 
 although he could hardly drag himself to Vlodava and would 
 have been at his wits' end if we had not arrived. We took 
 him to Volhynia where our men have the upper hand and he 
 sent us alone to the lady." 
 
 "Those black-eyed wenches are his destruction," cried Bur- 
 lay. "I told him that long ago. Would it not have been 
 better to have taken the girl in the Cossack fashion, and 
 then have tied a stone round her neck and thrown her into 
 the water, as we did at the Black Sea?" 
 
 Volodiyovski could hardly contain himself, so indignant 
 was he at the insult to the fair sex. Zagloba, however, 
 laughed and said: 
 
 "Yes, indeed it would have been better." 
 
 "But you are good friends of his," said Burlay. "You 
 did not forsake him in his need. And you, young fellow," 
 turning to Jendzian, "you are the best of all; for I saw you 
 in Chigrin, when you were nursing and watching our falcon. 
 Well, I am your friend also. What do you wish, soldiers or 
 horses? I will give them to you so that no accident may 
 happen to you on your homeward journey." 
 
 "We have no need of Cossacks, Colonel," said Zagloba, 
 "for we are riding as friends in a friendly land; and may 
 God preserve us from any accident. We can get along better 
 alone than with a great number, but we should like some 
 swift horses." 
 
 "I will give you some that cannot be overtaken by any 
 of the Khan's Arab steeds." 
 
 Jendzian once more seized the favorable opportunity. 
 
 "The ataman gave us very little monry as he had not 
 much himself; and, after we leave Bratslav, oats are worth 
 a dollar a peck." 
 
 "Come with me to my room," said Burlay. 
 
 Jendzian did not need a second invitation and disappeared 
 with the old colonel, behind the door. When he again made 
 his appearance, his chubby face beamed with delight and 
 
6^0 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 his gray coat was considerably puffed out around the waist. 
 
 •■~Nov,' God be with you on your journey," said the old 
 colonel; "and, when you have got the girl, come and see 
 me again, for I want to see Bohun's little bird." 
 
 "We cannot do that. Colonel," answered the boy, boldly, 
 "for this little Polish lady is very timid and actually tried 
 to kill herself once with a knife. We fear that some harm 
 may happen to her. Let the ataman do as he pleases with 
 her." 
 
 "He will, he will; she will not be afraid of him. She is 
 a white-handed Pole! And the Cossack stinks in her nos- 
 trils!" growled Burlay. "Go, and God be with you; you 
 have not much farther to travel." 
 
 It was not far from Yampol to Valadynka but the road 
 was difficult, or, rather, there was no road. The land 
 stretched away endlessly before our riders, without any path; 
 for in those days this region was yet a wilderness, only built 
 up and settled in places. Therefore, on leaving Yampol, 
 they turned westward, moTing away from the Dniester in 
 order to follow the river Yaladynka in its course to Eash- 
 kov; for only in this way could they find the glen. Morning 
 was breaking in the east, for Burlay's supper h?d lasted till 
 quite late in the night; and Zagloba calculated that they 
 could not reach the glen before sunset. But that suited him, 
 as, after freeing Helena, he wished to have the night be- 
 fore him. Meanwhile, the friends conversed as they rode, 
 and rejoiced that fortune had favored them so far; and Pan 
 Zagloba, remembering the supper with Burlay, said: 
 
 "Just see how these Cossacks who belong to the brother- 
 hood stand up for each other in all dangers! I am not speak- 
 ing of the rabble, whom the Cossacks despise; and who, if 
 the devil help them to get the upper hand, will make far 
 worse masters; but of the brotherhood itself. One stands up 
 for another, they are ready to go through fire for one another, 
 and do not act as the nobles do." 
 
 "Eh, what? gracious sir," answered Jendzian. "I was 
 among them for some time, and saw how they devoured each 
 other like wolves; and if it -were not for Khmyelnitski, who 
 keeps them in check, partly by his strong will and partly by 
 concesssions, they would have utterly eaten up one another. 
 But this Burlay is a great warrior among them and Khmyel- 
 niski, himself, honors him highly." 
 
 ''And you, evidently, seem to be in great favor with him, 
 
WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 651 
 
 as he allows you to plunder him. Ah, Jendzian, Jendzian, 
 you will come to a bad end." 
 
 "What is written cannot be avoided, gracious sir. Is it not 
 a praiseworthy act and agreeable to God to lead your enemy 
 into a trap?" 
 
 "I am not blaming you for that, but for your avarice, this 
 passion of the peasantry, which is quite unworthy of a noble- 
 man, and on account of which you wil be condemned." ' 
 
 "I do not grudge a candle to the Church if I succeed in 
 earning something, that the Lord G-od may make use of me 
 and may continue to bless me. And that I support my 
 parents, is surely no sin." 
 
 "What a rogue on four feet it is!" cried Zagloba, turning 
 to Volodiyovski. "I thought that all cunning would go to 
 the grave with me; but I see that he is a still greater rascal. 
 Through his craftiness, we shall free the princess from Bo- 
 hun's imprisonment, with Bohun's own permission and with 
 Burlay's horses. Did you ever hear anything like it? And 
 I wouldn't give three mites for him." 
 
 Jendzian smiled contentedly and answered: 
 
 "Are we any the worse oflE, gracious sir." 
 
 "I like you; and, if you were not so avaricious, I should 
 like to take you into my service. But, as you hoodwinked 
 Burlay, I will even forgive you for calling me a sot." 
 
 "I did not call you so, gracious sir, it was Bohun." 
 
 "God has punished him for it," answered Zagloba. 
 
 Thus chatting, they passed the morning; but when the 
 sun had reached the meridian, they became serious, for in a 
 few hours they would see Valadynka. After a long journey, 
 they were near their goal, and an uneasiness natural on 
 such occasions stole into their hearts. Was Helena yet alive? 
 And, if she were alive, would they find her in the ravine? 
 Horpyna might have taken her away, or, at the last moment, 
 have hidden her in some unknown cleft in the rocks, or have 
 killed her. The impediments were not all overcome, the 
 dangers not all conquered. They had indeed credentials by 
 which Horpyna was to recognize them as Bohun's emissaries; 
 but how would it be if she had been warned by devils or 
 ghosts. Jendzian was the most apprehensive of this and 
 even Pan Zagloba feared it; and, although he was so con- 
 fident in his own knowledge of the black art, he could not 
 think about it without uneasiness. If this were the case, 
 they would find the ravine empty; or, perhaps even worse, 
 
f22 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 they might find the Cossacks from Eashkov in ambush. 
 Their hearts beat louder and when after several hours ride, 
 from a rising ground at the border of the ravine they saw 
 in the distance a gleam of water like a silver ribbon, Jend- 
 zian's chubby face grew somewhat pale. 
 
 "That is Valadynka," he said, in a hushed voice. 
 
 "Already!" asked Zagloba, in an equally muffled voice, 
 "how near it is ... " 
 
 "May Grod protect us!" answered Jendzian. "My gracious 
 sir, begin your incantations at once, for I am dreadfully 
 frightened." 
 
 "Incantations are foolishness! We will bless the river and 
 the cells that will be of better help." 
 
 Yolodiyovski was the least disturbed, but he was silent. 
 He only looked carefully at his pistols, loaded them with 
 fresh powder, and saw that his sword could be unsheathed 
 without difficulty. 
 
 "I have a consecrated bullet here, in this pistol," said 
 Jendzian. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and 
 of the Holy Ghost! Forward! Forward!" 
 
 Before long, they found themselves on the bank of the 
 little river, and turned thir horses' heads in the direction of 
 its course. Yolodiyovski stopped a moment, and said: 
 
 "Let Jendzian take the safe conduct; for the witch knows 
 him, and he can talk to her first, so that she will not be 
 afraid when she sees us and go and hide herself with the 
 princess in some cleft in the rocks." 
 
 "I will not go first, no matter what you say, gentlemen," 
 said Jendzian. 
 
 "Well, then, ride in the rear, you blockliead." 
 
 Then, Yolodiyovski rode forward, followed by Zagloba; 
 Jendzian, with the extra horses, bringing up the rear, and 
 looking anxiously about him on all sides. The horses' hoofs 
 clattered on the stones; the stillness of a desert reigned in 
 this place, which was only broken by the chirping of crickets 
 and grasshoppers who were hidden in the rocks, for the day 
 was warm although the sun was already long past the 
 meridian. The horsemen had finally reached a round eleva- 
 tion, which looked like a knight's shield turned over, upon 
 which broken rocks, weather beaten by the sun and air, were 
 scattered like ruins of houses and church towers. It looked 
 as though it was the ruins of a nobleman's castle or a town 
 that had been but yesterday destroyed by the enemy. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 65^ 
 
 Jendzian looked at it and rode up to Zagloba. 
 
 "That is the boundary line/' said he. "I recognize it by 
 what Bohun told me of it. No one who crosses this at night 
 survives to tell the tale." 
 
 "If one cannot pass it by, perhaps one can pacs across it," 
 answered Zagloba. "Bah! this is a strange, accursed land; 
 but at least we are on the right road." 
 
 "It is not much farther," said Jendzian. 
 
 "God be praised," answered Zagloba, and his thoughts 
 turned to the princess. 
 
 His courage revived wonderfully at the sight of the wild 
 banks of the Valadynka, of this desert and its silence. It 
 seemed incredible that the princess should be so near; she, 
 for whom he had undertaken so many adventures and passed 
 through so many dangers; she, whom he so loved that, when 
 the news of her death same to him, he no longer knew how 
 he should live out the rest of his days. But on' the other 
 hand one becomes habituated even to misfortune. Zagloba 
 had so long been filled with the conviction that she had 
 been stolen and was far away in Bohun's power, that now 
 he hardly dared to say: 'Behold, now sadness and searching 
 have come to an end, the time of peace and happiness is 
 here.' But, other questions forced themselves upon him. 
 What would she say when she saw him? For this rescue 
 from such a long and wearisome imprisonment would sur- 
 prise her, like a flash of lightning . . . "God's ways are 
 wonderful," thought Zagloba; "He understands how to direct 
 everything so that virtue shall conquer and injustice shall 
 be put to shame. It was God who first sent Jendzian into 
 Bohun's hands and then made him his friend. It was God 
 who directed that the cruel mother, war, should call the wild 
 ataman from this desert where, like a wolf, he had carried 
 his prey. God, who later gave him into Volodiyovski's hands 
 and led Jendzian to him once more. And so He has so 
 directed everything that now, when Helena is perhaps giving 
 up her last ray of hope and no longer expects assistance, at 
 this very time rescue is at hand. 
 
 "Thy tears will cease to flow, my little daughter," thought 
 Zagloba, "and soon thou wilt be overcome with Joy. And 
 oh, how thankful she will be, how she will fold her little 
 hands and be thankful!" 
 
 Here, Zagloba saw the girl in his mind's eye; and he was 
 filled with emotion and became buried in thought about 
 what was to happen in the next hour. 
 
654 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Jendzian pulled His sleeve from behind. 
 
 "Gracious sir!" 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Zagloba, annoyed that the 
 thread of his thoughts had been broken. 
 
 "Did you not see, sir?'" 
 
 '^hat? Was it only a wolf! Kiss him on the nose." 
 
 At this moment YolodiyoTski reined in his horse. 
 
 "Have we not missed the road?" he asked. "It ought to 
 be here." 
 
 "Xo," answered Jendzian, "we will ride as Bohun said. 
 "I wish to God it were all over." 
 
 "If we are on the right road, it will soon be over." 
 
 "I want to ask the gentlemen to look at Cheremis, when 
 they are talking to the witch. He must be a hideous creature. 
 But he can shoot splendidly." 
 
 " Do not be afraid — ^go forward!" 
 
 They had not ridden many paces when the horses began 
 to snort and to lay back their ears. Jendzian grew as cold 
 as a lizard, for he expected at every moment to hear the 
 howling of a vampire from the clefts in the rocks, or to see 
 some fearful form start up before him; but it turned out pre- 
 sently that the horses were only snorting because they bad 
 passed close by the place where the wolf stood, who had 
 frightened the boy a few moments before. The air was 
 perfectly still, not even the crickets chirped, and the sun 
 had almost set. Jendzian crossed himself and became calm. 
 
 Suddenly Volodiyovski pulled in his horse. 
 
 "I see the glen. Its entrance is hidden by a rock and there 
 is a breach in the rock.' 
 
 "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost! 
 There it is," whispered Jendzian. 
 
 "Follow me!" cried Pan Michael, turning his horse. 
 
 Before long, they stood at the breach in the rock and rode 
 through it, as into a stone vault. A deep glen lay open 
 before them, the sides of which were thickly overgrown, and 
 spread out in the distance into a wide semicircular level sur- 
 rounded by gigantic walls of rock. 
 
 Jendzian began to cry at the top of his voice. 
 
 "Bo — ^hun! Bo — ^hun! come here, witch, come. Bo — ^hun! 
 Bo— hun!" 
 
 They stopped their horses and waited in silence. Pre- 
 sently the boy called again: 
 
 "Bo— hun! Bo— hun! ... " 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 655 
 
 The barking of dogs was heard in the distance. 
 
 "Bo— hun! Bo— hun!" 
 
 On the left of the glen on which the red beams of the 
 setting sun were falling there was a rustling in ■ the thick 
 bushes of wild plum and hawthorn; and, following upon it, 
 appeared at the extreme summit of the precipice, a human 
 form, which bending over, with her hand screening her 
 eyes, was looking attentively at the new arrivals. 
 
 "That is Horpyna," said Jendzian; and, placing his hand 
 to his mouth, he cried again "Bo- — hun! Bo — hun!" 
 
 Horpyna began to descend, bending her body backwards 
 to preserve her equilibrium. She came down rapidly and, 
 behind her, came plunging a little undersized man with a 
 long Turkish gun in. his hand. The bushes cracked ujider 
 the heavy feet of the witch, the stones rolled clattering to 
 the bottom of the glen, and, in the red evening sunlight, with 
 her body bent backwards, she looked like a gigantic, un- 
 earthly being. 
 
 "Who are you?" she said, in a loud voice, when she reached 
 the bottom. 
 
 "How are you, lass?" said Jendzian, who, at the sight of 
 beings who were not ghosts, had regained his self-possession. 
 
 "You are one of Bohun's servants, I recognize you, you 
 little fellow. And those over there, who are they?" 
 
 "Bohun's friends." 
 
 "A pretty witch!" murmured Pan Michael to himself. 
 
 "And why have you come here?" 
 
 "Here are the safe-conduct, the knife, and the ring. Do 
 you know what that signifies?" 
 
 The giantess took the tokens in her hand and looked at 
 them closely; then she said: 
 
 "They are the same! you want the princess?" 
 
 "We do; is she well?" 
 
 "She is well. Why did not Bohun come himself?" 
 
 "Bahun is wounded." 
 
 "Wounded? I saw it in the mill." 
 
 "If you saw it, why do you ask? You lie, girl!" said Jend- 
 zian, with confidence. 
 
 The witch laughed and showed her white wolfs teeth; and, 
 clenching her fist, she gave Jendzian a dig in the ribs. 
 
 "You little fellow, you." 
 
 "Be ofE with you." 
 
 "Will you not kiss me? And when do you want to take 
 the princess?" 
 
656 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Inmiediately. But we must rest the horses." 
 
 "Well, take her, I will go with you." 
 
 "And why do you want. to go?" 
 
 "My brother is destined to die; he is going to be impaled 
 by the Poles; I will go with you." 
 
 Jendzian bent over in his saddle, as though he would con- 
 verse more privately with the giantess, while his hand, un- 
 observed sought the butt of his pistol. 
 
 "Cheremis! Cheremds!" he said, in order to direct the at- 
 tention of his companions to the dwarf. 
 
 "A^Tiy do you call him, his tongue has been cut out." 
 
 "I am not calling him, I am only astonished at his beauty. 
 You would not leave him; he is your husband." 
 
 "He is my dog." 
 
 "There are only two of you in the glen?" 
 
 "Only two — and the princess." 
 
 "That is well, you will not go with us." 
 
 "But I will go, I say." 
 
 "And I say you will stay here." 
 
 In the boy's tone, there was something so peculiar that 
 the giantess became uneasy and turned round; she had be- 
 come mistrustful. 
 
 "What do you want?" she said. 
 
 "That is what I want," answered Jendzian, firing his pistol 
 at her breast, and she was so close that the smoke enveloped 
 them both in a moment. Horpyna stepped back with out- 
 stretched arms, her eyes started from their sockets, an un- 
 earthly cry escaped from her throat, she staggered and fell 
 backwards her whole length on the ground. At the sanle 
 moment, Zagloba gave Cheremis a blow with his sword; so 
 that the skull cracked under the blade. The monstrous 
 dwarf uttered not a sound, but rolled himself together like 
 a worm, twitching, and opening and shutting his hands al- 
 ternately, like the claws of a dying lynx. 
 
 Zagloba wiped his reeking sword with the sleeve of his 
 coat. Jendzian sprang from his horse, seized a huge stone 
 and threw it upon Horpyna's broad chest and then began 
 to look for something in his breast pocket. 
 
 The gigantic form of the witch was still striking the 
 earth with its feet, her face twitched convulsively, the white 
 teeth were covered with a bloody foam, and, from her throat, 
 came a muffled gurgle. Meanwhile, the boy pulled out a 
 piece of consecrated chalk and with it traced the sign of the 
 cross on the stone and said: 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. gey 
 
 "N"ow, she will never get up again." 
 
 Then he sprang into the saddle. 
 
 "Forward!" commanded Volodiyovski. They flew along 
 the brook like a whirlwind, and came to a halt in the middle 
 of the glen. They passed several scattered oalis and pre- 
 sently there appeared before their eyes a cabin and a tall 
 mill, whose dripping wheel glistened like a red star in the 
 rays of the sun. Two huge black dogs were fastened by 
 ropes outside the cabin. They tried to spring at the new- 
 comers, and tugged at their opes with howls of rage. Volo- 
 diyovski was ahead and arrived first. He sprang to the 
 ground and, stepping to the door of the house, opened it, 
 and entered the hall, his sword clattering at his side. 
 
 At the right of the hall, could be seen an open door lead- 
 ing into a large room with a fireplace in the middle, filled 
 with chips of wood, and smoking fiercely. The door at the 
 left was closed. "She must be in there," thought Pan 
 Michael, springing to open it. 
 
 He shook the door, opened it, was about to dash into the 
 room, but remained on the threshold as if petrified. 
 
 At the farther end of the room, with her hand upon the 
 head of her couch, stood Helena Kurtsevich, pale, with her 
 hair falling over her shoulders; her terrified eyes, turned 
 towards Volodiyovski, seemed to ask: "Who art thou, what 
 dost thou want here?" for she had never seen the little 
 knight. 
 
 He, however, stood in bewilderment at the sight of such 
 beauty, and of this room, furnished with velvet and gold bro- 
 cade. Presently, he recovered himself and spoke hastily: 
 
 "Fear nothing, princess, we are friends of Skshetuski." 
 
 The princess sank upon her knees. 
 
 "Save me," she cried, clasping her hands. But at that 
 moment Zagloba plunged into the room, red, trembling, and 
 panting. 
 
 "It is we," he cried, "we, and we are bringing assistance!" 
 
 When the princess heard these words and saw that well- 
 known face she bent like a cut-off flower, her hands fell and 
 her lids closed over her eyes. She had fainted. 
 
 42 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 The horses had hardly been allowed to rest, but still they 
 flew onward with such speed, that when the moon had risen 
 over the steppes, the party had reached the vicinity of Stu- 
 denka on the other side of the Valadynka. At the head rode 
 Pan Volodiyovski, looking carefully about him in all direc- 
 tions, behind was Zagloba beside Helena and at the end of 
 the train Jendzian, leading the horses of burden, and two 
 reserve horses which he had not forgotten to take from the 
 stable of Horpyna. Zagloba did not give his tongue a min- 
 ute's rest, he had indeed many things to tell the princess, 
 who, having been secluded in the wild ravine, knew nothing 
 of what was going on in the world. He told her how a friend 
 had searched for her from the beginning, how Skshetuski 
 had gone to Pereyaslav in order to look for Bohun, not know- 
 ing of his defeat, and how finally Jendzian succeeded in 
 worming the secret of her hiding-place from the ataman, and 
 had brought the same to Zbaraj. 
 
 "Merciful G-od!" said Helena turning her beautiful pale 
 face towards the moon, "so Pan Skshetuski has followed my 
 traces beyond the Dnieper!" 
 
 "As far as Pereyaslav, I repeat. And surely he would have 
 come hither with us had we had time to send word to him; 
 but we wanted to hurry to your aid without delay. He knows 
 nothing of your rescue yet, and prays daily for your safety — ■ 
 but he needs no pity. Let him cuffer a while longer inas- 
 much as such reward awaits him." 
 
 "And I thought I was forgotten by all and prayed to God 
 to let me die." 
 
 "We had not only not forgotten you, but were all the time 
 planning how we might rescue you and come to your aid. It 
 was only natural that Skshetuski and myself should have 
 given serious attention to the matter, but this knight too, 
 who rides before us, with an equal self-sacrifice, spared 
 neither care nor trouble nor toil." 
 
 "May God reward him for it." 
 
 66 1 
 
662 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Both of you evidently possess something that attracts 
 men to you; but to Volodiyovski, you are really indebted, 
 for, as I have said, we together cut up Bohun like a pike." 
 
 "Pan Skshetuski in Eozloga spoke about Pan Volodiyovski 
 as his best friend, he said . . " 
 
 "And he was right. There abides a great soul in that 
 little body. Just at present, he is somewhat shy, for your 
 beauty has evidently dazzled him. But when he gets over 
 it, he will come to himself. We together did great work 
 at the election of the king." 
 
 "So there is already a new King?" 
 
 "So you have not even heard of this, poor soul, in that 
 cursed desert?" Why John Casimir was elected last Fall 
 and has been reigning now for eight months. A great war 
 has broken out with the rebels, and God help us! for Prince 
 Yeremy was forced to resign, and in his stead others were 
 chosen, who were fitted better for feasts than for war." 
 
 "And will Pan Skshetuski also go to this war?" 
 
 "He is a good soldier, and I doubt if even you can keep 
 him back from it. We are alike in this respect. As soon 
 as we smell powder, no power on earth can hold us back. 
 Oh, last year we made ourselves felt by that mob. The whole 
 night would not suffice for me to tell you all that happened. 
 Of course, we shall go to the war, but the main thing is that 
 we have found you, poor child, without whom life for us was 
 a burden." 
 
 The princess turned her sweet face to Pan Zagloba. 
 
 "I do not know why you love me so much, sir, but you 
 cannot love me more than I love you." 
 
 Zagloba sighed deeply with content. 
 
 "Do you reallv love me so much?" 
 
 "As I live, I do." 
 
 "God reward you, for this will lighten the burden of my 
 old age. It is an every-day matter for me to attract the at- 
 tention of wV>men. This was the case during the election 
 in W^arsaw. Volodiyovski is a witness. But what care I 
 any longer for the love of women, despite the warmth of 
 my heart — I will content myself with fatherly feelings alone." 
 
 Silence followed, then the horses snorted one after another, 
 which was a good omen. 
 
 "Good luck! Good luck!" exclaimed the horsemen. 
 
 The night was clear. The moon ascended higher and 
 higher in the sky richly set with stars, which grew smaller 
 
WITU FIBE AND SWORD. 553 
 
 and paler. The tired horses slackened up and the riders 
 themselves began to grow weary. Volodiyovski was the first 
 to rein in his horse. 
 
 "It's about time to rest," said he, "it will soon be dawn." 
 
 "Yes, it is time," repeated Zagloba. "I am so tired that 
 I see two heads on my horsei" 
 
 But before they lay down to sleep, Jendzian prepared 
 supper; he made a fire, and taking off the saddle-bags from 
 a horse, he got out the supplies which he had purchased in 
 Yampol, near Burky. There was corn bread, cold meat, 
 delicacies and Wallachian wine. At the sight of the two 
 leather bottles, which were filled with beverage and gave 
 outxa splashing and pleasant sound, Zagloba forgot all about 
 sleep, and the others also fell to and ate with a good will. 
 There was plenty for all, and when they were satisfied, Za- 
 globa wiped his mouth with his coat-sleeve, and said: 
 
 "Till life ends, I shall never cease to repeat, God's ways 
 are marvellous. See, my dear lady, you are free and we are 
 sitting here joyfully under God's sky, drinking Burlay's wine. 
 I will not deny that Hungarian wine would be better, for 
 this smells of leather, but on the journey it is good enough." 
 
 "I cannot get over wondering at one thing," said Helena, 
 "and that is that Horpyna gave me up so easily to you." 
 
 Zagloba looked at Volodiyovski and at Jendzian and 
 winked at them. 
 
 "She consented because she had to. Anyway, why should 
 we conceal it, for it is no shame that we killed her, together 
 with Cheremis." 
 
 "What?" asked the princess frightened. 
 
 "Did you hear the shot?" 
 
 "I heard it; but I thought Cheremis was shooting." 
 
 "It was not Cheremis, but this youth here, who shot the 
 witch through and through? The devil is in him, that is 
 sure; but he could not do otherwise, for whether on account 
 of a whim, or whether she divined something, the witch 
 wished to ride with us in any event. We could not allow 
 this, for she would have soon noticed that we were not 
 ridinp^ to Kiev. So he shot her then, and I made way with 
 Cheremis. He was' indeed an Afican monster, and I do not 
 think that God will count it against me. Even in hell he 
 must arouse general disgust. Shortly before our departure 
 from the retreat, I rode ahead and drew the bodies some- 
 what aside, so that the sight of the corpses might not frighten 
 yo\i, or that you might not think it an evil omen;" 
 
664 
 
 WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 
 
 Then the princess said: — 
 
 "In these terrible times, I have seen too many persons who 
 were near to me slain, to become frightened at the sight of 
 corpses, still, I should have preferred if no blood had been 
 shed, lest God might punish us." 
 
 "Nor was it a chivalrous act," curtly remarked Volodi- 
 yovski. "I would not soil my hands with it." 
 
 "What's the use of thinking over the matter now," said 
 Jendzian. "It couldn't be otherwise. Had we killed a good 
 man, I would not have a word to say, but to kill enemies of 
 God is allowable. Had I not seen myself that the witch was 
 in a league with devils! I do not regret that matter at all." 
 
 "And what does Pan Jendzian regret?" asked the princess. 
 
 "That there is money hidden in the ground of which Bo- 
 hun told me. But because the gentlemen compelled us to 
 hurry, I had no time to dig it up, although I knew the spot 
 by the mill accurately. It also broke my heart that we had 
 to leave behind us so many precious things in the place where 
 your Ladyship dwelt." 
 
 "Behold the kind of a servant you are getting," said Za- 
 globa to the princess, "with the exception of his master, he 
 would tear the skin from anyone, from the devil himself, to 
 make a collar of it." 
 
 "If it please God, Jendzian will have no reason to com- 
 plain of my ungratefulness," answered Helena. 
 
 "I thank your Grace, very humbly," said the lad, kissing 
 her hand. 
 
 Meanwhile Volodiyovski sat silent, drinking wine from the 
 leathern bottle, with his brow contracted in a frown, until 
 his unusual silence drew Zagloba's attention to him. 
 
 "And Pan Michael," said he, "hardly utters a word," and 
 turning to the princess, he added: 
 
 "Did I not tell you that your beauty had paralyzed his 
 tongue and his intellect." 
 
 "You had better get some sleep before daybreak," replied 
 the knight, much confused, and twisting his little moustache 
 to a point. 
 
 But the old nobleman w£is right; the extraordinary beauty 
 of the princess had stunned and entranced the little knight. 
 He looked at her again and again, and asked himsell, "Is it 
 possible that such a being live upon this earth?" Doubtless 
 he had seen many beauties in his life, the Pannas Anna and 
 Barbara Zbaraska were beautiful, Anna Borzobahata's beauty 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 555 
 
 defied all description. Panna Zukovna to whom Pan Eost- 
 vorovski was paying attention, was charming also, and Panna 
 Viershulova Skoropadzka and Panna Bohovitynyanka, but 
 none of them could compare with this beautiful wild-flower 
 of the steppes. In the presence of the others. Pan Volo- 
 diyovski was always lively and talkative; but now when he 
 glanced at those sweet half-veiled, velvet eyes, the silky 
 lashes of which drooped on her rosy cheeks; when he beheld 
 her luxuriant hair that spread like a hyacinth over her arms 
 and shoulders, her slender figure, her beautifully-rounded 
 bosom, which lightly rose and sank, as she breathed; exhaling 
 warm love, and when he looked on her lily and rose white com- 
 plexion and the roses on her cheeks, and on her red lips, then 
 Pan Volodiyovski completely lost his speech, and worst of all, 
 he appeared to himself so clumsy, stupid and diminutive as to 
 appear ridiculous. She is a princess, and I am but a school 
 boy, thought he with bitterness, and he longed for an ad- 
 venture, possibly with a giant, who might emerge from the 
 darkness; then poor Pan Michael would show that he was 
 not as small as he appeared. He was also put out beca ise 
 Zagloba, evidently delighted that his fair daughter was the 
 object of so much attention, gave vent to many knowing 
 winks and nods, and Joked him not a little. 
 
 Meanwhile she sat before the fire. The white moon and 
 the red fiames cast their light upon her. She sat still and 
 quiet, looking more and more beautiful. 
 
 "Admit, Pan Michael," said Za^oba, the next morning 
 when they were alone for a moment, "that there is not 
 such another girl throughout the entire Commonwealth. If 
 you can show me such another, you can call me a fool, and 
 demented besides." 
 
 "I don't deny it," said the little knight. "She stands 
 alone, and I have never seen her like before. Even those 
 marble statues of the goddesses in the palace of Panna Kaz- 
 anovski, which, though cut from marble, seem to be alive, 
 cannot compare with her. I am not surprised that the 
 bravest men risked their lives on her account, for she is 
 worth it." 
 
 "What! As God is my Judge," said Zagloba, "one does not 
 know whether she is more beautiful in the morning or in the 
 evening, for she seems ever as fresh as a rose. I told you 
 that I once was also wonderfully handsome, but even in 
 those days, I should have been obliged to bow to her although 
 many say that she resembles me as one goblet does another." 
 
566 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Oh, go to the devil!" exclaimed the little knight. 
 
 "Do not treat me with such scorn. Pan Michael, for yo-u 
 frown like Mars already. You gaze at her like a goat at a 
 cabbage, and pucker your brow; one would swear that de- 
 sires torment you, but the sausage is not for the dog." 
 
 "Fie," exclaimed Yolodiyovski, "as an old man are you not 
 ashamed to talk such nonsense?" 
 
 "Why do you look so downcast?" 
 
 "Because you believe that all danger is behind us, that we 
 are in safety and that evil has flown like a bird in the air. 
 But we must consider how we can avoid the one and over- 
 come the other. The way that lies before us is full of 
 danger, God knows what is awaiting us, for the region into 
 which we go is surely now in flames." 
 
 "When I abducted her from Bohun in Eozloga, it was 
 worse, because pursuit was behind us and revolution before 
 us; nevertheless, we traversed the entire Ukraine crossing an 
 ocean of flames to Bar. What is the use of the heads upon 
 our shoulders. If it comes to the worst, we are not far from 
 Kamenets." 
 
 "Yes, but the Turks and Tartars are not far from there 
 either." 
 
 "What are you telling me?" 
 
 "I only speak the truth, and that is worth while thinking 
 about. It would be better to skirt around Kamenets and 
 go directly to Bar for the Cossacks respect a safe-conduct 
 and we could easily get through the TDlacks/ but should a 
 single Tartar get sight (Ji us we are lost. I know their tricks 
 by a long experience, and understand how to steal around a 
 Tartar camp like a wolf or a bird, but should we chance upon 
 one now without warning, I should be at loss what to do." 
 
 "Well, then let us go to Bar or around it, and may a pest 
 destroy the Lipkovs and Cheremis of Kamenets. You evi- 
 dently do not know that Jendzian received a safe-conduct 
 from Burlay? We can roam about among the Cossacks sing- 
 ing. We have left the worst desert behind us, we are coming 
 now into an inhabitated land. We must take care that we 
 always stop at some farm before nightfall, for this will be 
 safer and more comfortable for the lady. It seems to me 
 Pan Michael, that you look at things too darkly. By Jove, 
 it were a strange thing if three fellows like ourselves, without 
 flattering myself or you, could not take care of ourselves in 
 the steppes. We shall combine our wits with your sabre, and 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 667 
 
 'Haida! onward! We can do nothing better. Jendzian has 
 his safe-conduct from Burlay, that's the main thing, for Bur- 
 lay rules the whole of Podolia, and once we have Bar behind 
 us, we shall find Lantskorontski's troops. Haida! Come on 
 Pan Michael, let us lose no time." 
 
 They hurried onward towards the northwest as fast as the 
 horses could go.' On the heights of Mohilov, they reached 
 inhabitated land, so that it was no longer difficult for them 
 to find a farm or village where they could spend the night, 
 but with the dawn they were always on their horses, and on 
 the way. Fortunately the summer was dry, the days were 
 warm, and the nights dewy, and in the morning the steppes 
 glistened like silver frost. The winds had dried the ponds; 
 the rivers were shallow, and could be forded without diffi- 
 culty. After they had gone for some distance along the 
 Lozova, they stopped for a more protracted rest in Sharagrod 
 where a division of Burlay's Cossack's was encamped. Here 
 they met delegates of Burlay, and among them Captain Set- 
 nik Kuna, whom they had seen in Yampol at the feast given 
 by Burlay. The Captain Setnik was somewhat surprised that 
 they did not pass through Bratslav, Eaygrod, Skvira to Kiev, 
 but no suspicion entered his mind, especially as Zagloba ex- 
 plained to him that they had not taken that course through 
 fear of the Tartars, having heard that the latter were march- 
 ing up from the Dnieper. Kuna told them in reply that Bur- 
 lay had sent him to the regiment to announce the campaign, 
 and that he, himself, with all the Yampol and Budziak-Tar- 
 tars would come to Sharagrod and push on from there. 
 
 Special messengers had come to Burlay from Khmyelnitski 
 with the news that war was declared, and with orders to lead 
 all the squadrons to Volhynia. Burlay, himself, had intended 
 long ago to go to Bar, and only waited for the Tartars to 
 join him, for at Bar things were going badly for the rebels. 
 
 Pan Lantskoronski had defeated a considerable body then, 
 and had captured the city and occupied the castle. Several 
 thousand Cossacks had fallen, and these the old Burlay 
 wished to revenge, or at least to retake the castle. Kuna 
 said, 'however, that the latest orders from Khymelnitski to 
 proceed onward to Volhynia had prevented this action, and 
 that Bar would not be besieged, unless the Tartars insisted 
 upon it at all hazards. 
 
 "Now, Pan Michael," said Zagloba, the next day, "Bar lies 
 before us, and I could for the second time find the princess 
 
668 WITH FIRE AJUD SWOBD. 
 
 a safe retreat there, but the deuce take that place. I trust 
 neither Bar nor any other fortress since the rebels have 
 more cannon than the army of the Crown. What disturbs 
 me is, that a storm is threatening all about us." 
 
 "It is not only threatening, but it is breaking right at 
 our heels in the shape of the Tartars; if they should over- 
 take us, they would not be a little surprised, that instead of 
 going to Kiev, we should be going in an opposite direction." 
 
 "And Burlay would be ready to show us another way. May 
 the devil show him first the way which leads directly to hell. 
 Let us make a contract. I will engage to get through these 
 rascals, but when we come among the Tartars, there, you 
 must use yaur wits." 
 
 "It is a simple matter to deal with this mob, as they take 
 us for their own." answered Volodiyovski, "but. as regards 
 the Tartars, my advice is to flee from them as fast as possible, 
 so that we may escape their toils. Our horses are good, but 
 wherever an opportunity offers, we must buy new ones on 
 the way in order to have a fresh relay." 
 
 "Pan Longin's purse will probably pay our way, but should 
 it not, Jendzian must lend us Burlay's, and now onward!" 
 
 And they rushed onward still faster until the foam covered 
 the flanks of the horses and fell like snow on the green 
 steppe. They passed through Derla and Lodava. Volodi- 
 yovski bought fresh horses in Bark. But the old ones were 
 not left behind; for those that Burlay had present:.d to them 
 were thoroughbreds, and therefore they kept them as re- 
 serves. Shorter and shorter became their pauses for rest, 
 and fewer their stops in sheltered places. They all enjoyed 
 fine health, and although Helena was fatigued by the Journey, 
 still she gained strength day by day. In the ravine she had 
 led a secluded life, and had rarely left her gilded cage for 
 fear of meeting the shameless Horpyna, and being compelled 
 to listen to her talk. Now the fresh air of the steppe re- 
 stored her health, her cheeks became rosy, the sun tanned her 
 face, and her eyes gained fresh fire. Often when the winds 
 curled her hair on her forehead, one might have taken her 
 for a gypsy; or a wonderful witch, or have thought that a 
 gypsy queen was prancing across the wide steppe, with 
 flowers pringing up before her, and an escort of knights 
 behind. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski gradually became accustomed to her 
 wonderful beauty, the journey had brought them closer to 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 569 
 
 each other, and he became himself again. He regained his 
 former gayety and spirits, and his speech, and as he rode by 
 her side, he told her many things about Lubni, and espe- 
 cially about his friendship with Skshetuski, for he noticed 
 that she liked to listen to talk about him. 
 
 Sometimes he teased her, saying: 
 
 "I am Bohun's friend, and I'll take you to him. Princess." 
 
 Then she would clasp her hands as if in great fear, and 
 beseech him with soft words. 
 
 "Do not do so, dear knight, rather kill me on the spot." 
 
 '"That I would not do! I cannot do that!" answered the 
 little knight sternly. 
 
 "Kill me," repeated the princess, closing her eyes, and ex- 
 tending her neck. 
 
 Then a strange flush overcame the knight, he felt as if ants 
 were crawling all over him. "This girl mounts to one's head 
 like wine," he said to himself, "but I shall not get intoxi- 
 cated, for the wine belongs to another;" and Pan Michael 
 shook himself and galloped away, and when he had plunged 
 into the tall grass of the steppe, like a sea-mew into water, 
 the ants departed; and he turned all his attention to the 
 way they were gaing, looking carefully to see that they were 
 on the right track, and that no danger was threatening them 
 from any quarter. He stood up in his stirrups, and his little 
 moustache rose above the waving grass as he looked all 
 around listening and sniffing like a Tartar, when hunting in 
 the Wild Lands. 
 
 Pan Zagloba was also in the best of spirits. 
 
 "Our fight is easier now,' said he, "than formerly on the 
 Kahamlik, where we had to run along on foot, panting like 
 dogs, with the tongue hanging out. My tongue was so dry 
 that I could saw wood with it, and now thank God, we can 
 rest at night, and also have something to lubricate our throat 
 with from time to time." 
 
 "Do you remember. Sir, how you bore me in your arms 
 across the water?" asked Helena. 
 
 "If it please God, you will also see the day when you will 
 carry something in your arms — Skshetuski will see to that." 
 
 "Ho, ho!" laughed Jendzian. 
 
 "Say no more I pray you," whispered the princess, blush- 
 ing and with downcast eyes. 
 
 Thus they diverted themselves on the steppe as well as they 
 could to pass the time. Finally beyond Bark, and Yoltushka, 
 
670 W/TH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 they entered a region which showed the devastation of war. 
 Until recntly bands of rebels, had camped there, and there 
 Lantskoronski had defeated them, and left everything in 
 ruins behind him, for he had retired only a few days pre- 
 viously to Zbaraj. Our party learned also from the villagers 
 that Khmyelnitski together with the Khan and his entire 
 forces had moved against the Poles, or rather against the 
 commanders, whose troops had mutinied, and who refused 
 to serve except under Vishnyovyetski. Besides there was a 
 general feeling that if Khmyelnitski and Yeremy should 
 meet, either the Poles or the Cossacks would be wiped out. 
 Meanwhile, the whole country rose up in arms, and every 
 one seized their weapons and marched o£E to the north to 
 join Khmyelnitski. From the low lands of the Dniester, and 
 from Xij, Burlay was advancing with all his forces, and draw- 
 ing to himself regiments from their winter-quarters and gar- 
 risons from the towns, for the order to mobihze had gone 
 forth everywhere. So they marched in divisions of hundreds 
 and squadrons and regiments and following them streamed 
 the disorderly "blacks" armed with flails, pitch-forks, knives 
 and spears. Horse-herders and cattle-drivers threw away 
 their scythes, farmers deserted their lands, bee-keepers their 
 bees, the wild fishermen their banks on the Dniester, and the 
 hunters their forests. Hamlets, villages and towns were de- 
 serted. In three provinces there remained only the old wo- 
 men and children, for the maidens had marched out with the 
 men against the polei. At the same time from the east, like 
 a threatening storm came the forces of the Khmyelnitski, 
 who with powerful hand destroyed places and castles on his 
 way, killing all whom former contests had spared. When 
 the party had left Bar with all its sad memories for the prin- 
 cess behind them, they took the old highway that led through 
 Latichov and Ploskirov to Tarnopol, and onwards to Lem- 
 berg. Here they often encountered big trains of wagons, 
 divisions of infantry, and of Cossack cavalry, bands of pea- 
 sants and enormous herds of oxen, which stirred up great 
 clouds of dust as they were driven along to make provision 
 for the Cossack and Tartar soldiery. Now, their journey 
 became dangerous, for they were continually questioned as 
 to who they were, whence they came, and whither they were 
 going. To the Cossack regiments Zagloba showed his safe- 
 conduct from Burlay, and said: . 
 
 ''AVe are messengers from Burdaj and we are taking the 
 maid to Bohun." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. . 671 
 
 At the sight of the safe-conduct of the dreaded, colonel 
 the swarm of Cossacks which surrounded them would fall 
 back, for they thought that if Bohun was alive, he "must 
 be already near the main army about Zbaraj, or Konstantinov. 
 But the party had still more trouble with the "blacks" and 
 wild bands of drunken and ignorant herdsmen who had no 
 idea of the meaning of the safe-conduct, issued by the col- 
 onel. Had it not been for Helena, Zagloba, Volodiyovski and 
 Jendzian, would have been taken by these half savage tribes 
 for their own kind, as sometimes actually happened, but 
 Helena attracted the attention of all on account of her sex 
 and her beauty, and therefore, there arose dangers, which 
 they could only avoid by taking the greatest precaution. 
 
 Sometimes Zagloba showed the safe-conduct; sometimes 
 Volodiyovski showed his teeth, and many a corpse they left 
 behind them? At times they were saved from disaster only 
 by the great speed of Burlay's racers, and the journey which 
 at the outset had begun so favorably, became more difficult 
 day by day. Helena, who though brave by nature, felt the 
 strain of sleepless nights and of continuous alarm, now began 
 to fail in health. She looked like a captive who is dragged 
 unwillingly into the camps of the enemy. Zagloba con- 
 tinually formed new plans which Volodiyovski carried out, 
 and both of them consoled the princess as well as they could. 
 
 "We must leave the swarms of ants behind which now con- 
 front us and reach Zbaraj," said the little knight. "Here, 
 Khmyelnitski, vidth the Tartars floods the whole region 
 about." 
 
 They had learned on the way that the commanders had 
 assembled at Zbaraj and intended to hold the town. They 
 had gathered there expecting that Prince Yeremy would 
 join them with his division, as a considerable portion of his 
 forces were quartered in Zbaraj. Now our party drew near 
 to Ploskirov. The swarms on the high roads began to grow 
 thinner, for but ten miles away the country was occupied 
 by the royal forces. The Cossack bands did not dare to ad- 
 vance further. They preferred to wait at a safe distance, for 
 the arrival of Burlay on one side, and of Khmyelnitski from 
 the other. 
 
 "But ten more miles, but ten more miles!" repeated Za- 
 globa rubbing his hands. "If we can only reach the first 
 squadrons, we surely will get safely to Zbaraj." 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski, however, decided to provide new horses 
 
6y2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 at Ploskirov, for those they had purchased in Bark, were no 
 longer any good, and those which Burlay had given them, 
 had tt) be spared for a dark hour. This precaution was ne- 
 cessary, for rumors were afloat that KJiymelnitski was already 
 near Konstantinov and that the Khan was approaching with 
 all his hordes from Pilavyets. 
 
 "It is best for us to remain with the princess here outside 
 the town, and not to show ourselves," said the little knight 
 to Zagloba when they had arrived at a small deserted cottage 
 about two furlongs from the town. 
 
 "But you go to the villagers and see if they have any horses 
 for sale or exchange. It is evening already, but we must 
 remain in the saddle all night." 
 
 'Til be back soon," said Zagloba. 
 
 He rode onward to the town. Volodiyovski then ordered 
 Jendzian to loosen the saddle-girths so as to give the horses 
 a chance to rest. He then led the princess into the house, 
 and bade here to refresh herself with wine and sleep. 
 
 "I would like to have those ten miles behind us by day- 
 break," he said to her, "then we can all rest." 
 
 No sooner had he brought the wine and some provisions, 
 than the sound of horses' hoofs was heard at the door. The 
 little knight looked out the window. 
 
 "Zagloba is back already," said he, "he surely has found 
 no horses." 
 
 At that moment the door opened, and Zagloba appeared 
 pale, blue, perspiring and breathless. 
 
 "Aloimt your horses," he cried. 
 
 Pan Michael was too experienced a soldier to lose time 
 in asking questions. He did not even take time to snatch up 
 the wine-bag, this, however, Zagloba grasped, but imme- 
 diately led the princess into the yard and helped her into her 
 saddle, and easting a glance at the saddle-girths to see if 
 they were tight, he cried: 
 
 "Mount your horses!" 
 
 There was a sound of clattering hoofs, and horsemen and 
 horses vanished in the darkness like a dream cavalcade. They 
 galloped for a long time without resting. But not till about 
 a mile separated them from Ploskirov, and the darkness had 
 grown so dense that the pursuit was impossible, did Volo- 
 diyovski approach Zagloba and ask: 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 "Wait, Pan Michael, wait. I am dreadfully out of breath. 
 My legs were nearly paralyzed. Ugh!" 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 673 
 
 "But what was it?" 
 
 "The devil himself, I tell you, the devil himself, or a 
 dragon on which a second head grows, as soon as the first 
 one is chopped ofE." 
 
 "SpeaJc plainly, I beg of you?" 
 
 "I saw Bohun in the market-place." 
 
 "Are you delirious?" 
 
 "I saw him in the market-place as true as I live, and five 
 or six people with him. I did not count them. I could 
 hardly stand on my feet — they held torch-lights for him — 
 methinks an evil spirit is working against us; I have lost all 
 faith in the success of our enterprise. Is that devil im- 
 mortal, or what? . . . don't speak to Helena about it, for 
 God's sake." 
 
 "You killed him, Jendzian gave him up? No! And still 
 he lives, is free, and crosses our path again. Ugh! Oh God! 
 God! I tell you. Pan Michael, that I would rather see a 
 ghost in a churchyard than him. What in the devil kind 
 of a fortune have I to always be the first one to see him 
 everywhere. To .the dogs with such luck! Are there no other 
 people in the world? Could he not appear to others? No, 
 always me, and only me." 
 
 "And did he see you?" 
 
 "If he had seen me, you Pan Michael would have never 
 seen me again. That was the only thing wanting." 
 
 "It would be well to know," said Volodiyovski, "if he is 
 in pursuit of us, or if he is going to Valadynka, to Horpyna 
 with the intention of catching us on the way." 
 
 "It seems to me, that he is going to Valadynka." 
 
 "That is probably the ease. Then we shall ride in one 
 direction, he in another, and if now one or two miles were 
 between us, there will be five in an hour from now. Before 
 he learns about us on the road and turns back, we shall be not 
 only in Zbaraj but in Jolkov." 
 
 "Do you think so. Pan Michael? Thank God. You re- 
 lieve my mind greatly, but tell me how is it possible that 
 he has regained his freedom since Jendzian gave him up 
 to the commander in Vlodava." 
 
 "He simply escaped." 
 
 "Oh, the Commander deserves to have his head chopped 
 off. Jendzian, hey! Jendzian!" 
 
 "What do you want?" said the lad reining in his horse. 
 
 "To whom did you give Bohun up?" 
 43 
 
674 'WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "To Pan Eogovski." 
 
 "And who is this Pan Eogovski?" 
 
 ''A fine gentleman; a lieutenant of the cuirassiers of His 
 Majesty, the King." 
 
 "You go to " said Yolodiyovski, snapping his fingers. 
 
 "Now I can explain matters. Don't you remember what 
 Longin told us about the enmity between Skshetuski and 
 Eogovski? He is a relative of Pan Lashch, and hates Skshe- 
 tuski on his account." 
 
 "I see, I see!" cried Zagloba. "He liberated Bohun out 
 of spite, but this is a criminal offence, whose penalty is the 
 gaUows. I shall be the first to report it." 
 
 "If God should let me meet him once we shall hardly 
 need to go before a tribunal." 
 
 Jendzian did not understand what the trouble was, for 
 after answering Zagloba's question, he rode forward again 
 beside the princess. They had now slackened their pace, the 
 moon had risen, the fog which since the evening had en- 
 veloped the earth now lifted, and the night became clear. 
 Yolodiyovski became engrossed in thought. Zagloba was 
 still thinking over his terrible experience. Finally, he said: 
 
 "How would Bohun have repaid Jendzian, if he had fallen 
 into his hands?" 
 
 "Tell him the news. Let him have a taste of the fright. 
 Meantime, I will ride on with the princess," answered the 
 little knight. 
 
 "All right, here! Jendzian." 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked the lad, checking the horse 
 again. 
 
 Zagloba remained silent for a while, until Yolodiyovski 
 and the princess had gotten enough ahead not to overhear it. 
 Then he said: 
 
 "Do you know what happened?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "Pan Eogovski set Bohun free. I saw him in Ploskirov." 
 
 "What, in Ploskirov, just now?" asked Jendzian. 
 
 "In Ploskirov, just now! Why don't you fall out of your 
 saddle?" 
 
 The moonlight illumined the lad's chubby face, but Za- 
 globa could discover upon it no trace of fright, but he saw 
 with astonishment that it had the same expression of almost 
 brutal rage which he had already noticed when Jendzian 
 killed Horpyna. 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 675 
 
 "Don't you fear Bohun then?" queried the old noble. 
 
 "My Lord," answered the lad, "if EogoYski has set him 
 free, I must try to revenge myself once more the insult and 
 ignominy he heaped upon me. I shall not spare him, for 
 I have sworn vengeance upon him, ajid were we not escorting 
 the princess now, I would instantly follow his tracks that 
 I might redeem my oath. I intend to keep it." 
 
 "Well," thought Zagloba, "I am glad that I have done no 
 injury to this lad." 
 
 Then he put spurs to his horse, and came up with the 
 princess and Volodiyovski. 
 
 After riding for about an hour they crossed the Medve- 
 dovka and entered a forest, which from the river bank 
 stretched along their path like two dark walls. 
 
 "I know this region well," said Zagloba. "We shall soon 
 be through this wood. Beyond it is open land for a quarter 
 of a mile, crossed by the highway to Charny-Ostrov, then 
 there are thicker forests extending to Matchyna. May it 
 please God that we find Polish troops already in Matchyna." 
 
 "It is high time for our deliverance," murmured Volodi- 
 yovski. 
 
 Again they rode along in silence for a time, on the brightly- 
 illumined highway. 
 
 "Two wolves have just run across our path," said Helena, 
 suddenly. 
 
 "I saw them," answered Volodiyovski, "and there is the 
 third one." 
 
 Indeed, a gray shadow crept across the way, about a hun- 
 dred paces before their horses. 
 
 "There is a fourth," cried the princess. 
 
 "No, that is a deer. Look, lady, two — three." 
 
 "What the devil!" cried Zagloba. "The wolves are being 
 chased by deer. The world is topsy-turvy." 
 
 "Let us ride faster," said Volodiyovski, his voice trembling 
 from anxiety, "Jendzian, come here, and ride ahead with the 
 princess." 
 
 They flew along; but as they rode Zagloba bent over to- 
 wards Volodiyovski, and asked: 
 
 "Pan Michael, what is the trouble?" 
 
 "Bad!" answered the little knight. "You observe that the 
 beasts have been disturbed from their sleep in their lairs, 
 and are running about in the night." 
 
 "And what does that mean?" 
 
676 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "That means that they are being frightened." 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 "By soldiers, either Cossacks or Tartars, who are approach- 
 ing us from the right." 
 
 "But perhaps these are our own troops?" 
 
 "That cannot be, for the animals are fleeing frcm the east, 
 from Pilavyets, and it is certain that the Tartars are ap- 
 proaching in a numerous body." 
 
 "Let us fly, Michael, for God's sake." 
 
 "There is nothing else to do. If it were not for the prin- 
 cess, we could ride up close to their chambuls, and drag some 
 of them out, but with her, the matter would be too difficult, 
 should they spy us." 
 
 "Merciful God, Pan Michael, shall we take to the woods 
 behind the wolves, or what?" 
 
 "That cannot be, for though we should escape the enemy 
 at the present moment, they would flood the regions before 
 us, and how then could we evade them?" 
 
 "Thunder and lightning strike them. This alone was want- 
 ing. But Pan ilichael, are you not mistaken, do not wolves 
 follow troops, rather than flee before them?" 
 
 "Those in the rear of the troops follow them, and gather 
 from afar, but those which are before them, flee. Look, there 
 to your right among the trees. There gleams a fire." 
 
 '■Jesus of Xazareth, King of the Jewsl" 
 
 ''Keep quiet! Is the forest much longer?" 
 
 ■'We shall soon come to its end." 
 
 "And then do we get into open country?" 
 
 "Yes! oh Jesus!" 
 
 "Keep quiet. Is there another forest beyond?" 
 
 "As far as Matchyna." 
 
 "Good. If only they do not overtake us in the open field! 
 If we will reach yonder forest, then we shall be at home. 
 Let us keep together now." 
 
 "Luckily the princes and Jendzian were mounted on Bur- 
 lay's horses." 
 
 They spurred their horses in order to join their friends 
 who were ahead. 
 
 ""What kind of a fire is that I see at the right?" asked the 
 princess. 
 
 "There's no use in concealment," answered the little 
 knight, "they may be the Tartars." 
 
 "Jesus Maria!" 
 
WITS FIRE AND 8W0BD. 677 
 
 "Do not worry my lady, I'll wager my head that we escape 
 them; and in Matchyna are our troops." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! let us make haste," exclaimed Jend- 
 zian. 
 
 They rode on in silence, flying along like spectres. The 
 forest grew lighter, and they were beginning to get to its 
 end; the fire-light also grew dimmer. Suddenly Helena ad- 
 dressed the little knight. 
 
 "Sir," said she, "promise me that you wil not let me fall 
 into their hands alive." 
 
 "That will not happen as long as I live>" answered Volodi- 
 yovski. 
 
 Hardly had they emerged from the forest,and entered the 
 opeitsjountry, or rather the steppe, which extended for about 
 a quarrer of a mile, when they beheld beyond another line of 
 forest. The clearing, open in all directions, gleamed in the 
 silvery beams of the moon, as bright almost as the daylight. 
 
 "This is the worst part of our way," whispered Volodi- 
 yovski to Zagloba, "for if they be in Charny-Ostrov, they must 
 cross here between the woods." 
 
 Zagloba did not reply; he only spurred his horse. 
 
 They had gotten over half of the clearing, and they were 
 drawing nearer and nearer to the forest before them, and 
 its outlines showed up distinctly, when suddenly the little 
 knight pointed towards the east. 
 
 "Look!" said he to Zagloba, "do you see?" 
 
 "I see bushes and thickets in the distance." 
 
 "But those bushes are moving." 
 
 "On, on, they can't fail to see us." 
 
 The wind whistled by the ears of the riders, the protecting 
 forest came nearer and nearer. All of a sudden there came 
 a sound like the roaring of ocean waves from the approaching 
 mass on their right, and at the next moment, one mighty 
 shout filled the air. 
 
 "They see us," roared Zagloba. "The dogs; the rascals; 
 the devils; the wolves; the ruffians!" 
 
 The forest was so near that the fleeing ones already felt 
 its cool raw air blowing upon their faces. 
 
 But the cloud of Tartars also grew more distinct and visible, 
 and the dark body shot out long arms like the feelers of a 
 gigantic monster, approaching with inconceivable speed. 
 Volodiyovski's trained ear could already clearly distinguish 
 their cries: 
 
678 WITB FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 'Allah! Allah!" 
 
 "My horse has stumbled," shouted Zagloba. 
 
 "That does not matter," replied Volodiyovski. 
 
 But like lightning the question flashed through his brain: 
 "What would happen if the horses gave out, or if one of them 
 broke down?" 
 
 They were, no doubt splendid Tartar steeds of iron en- 
 durance, but they had already made the journey from Plos- 
 kirov without rest after the first mad rush from the town to 
 the forest. They might indeed, mount the reserve horses, 
 but these we're worn out also. 
 
 "What is to be done now?" thought Volodiyovski, and his 
 heart beat in alarm, perhaps, for the first time in his life, not 
 for himself, but for Helena, whom during this long journey 
 he had learned to love as his own sister. Too well he knew 
 that when once the Tartars began to pursue they would not 
 soon relinquish the chase." 
 
 "If they overtake us, they shall not take her," said the 
 knight to himself, grinding his teeth. 
 
 "My horse has stumbled," cried Zagloba for the second 
 time." 
 . "That does not matter!" repeated Volodiyovski. 
 
 Xow they sped into the forest. Darkness enveloped them, 
 but several Tartars were not more than a few hundred feet 
 behind them. 
 
 The little knight already had made up his mind how to 
 act. 
 
 "Jendzian," cried he, "turn with the lady into the nearest 
 pathway." 
 
 "All right, sir," answered the lad. 
 
 Then the little knight addressesd Zagloba: "Have your 
 pistols ready in your hand." At the same time he grasped 
 the bridle of Zagloba's horse to check its speed. 
 
 "What are you doing?" cried the nobleman. 
 
 "Xothing, cheek your horse!" 
 
 The distance between them and Jendzian, who flew alon^ 
 with Helena, grew greater and greater. At length the flee- 
 ing pair reached a spot where the highway abruptly turned 
 towards Zbaraj and straight ahead the narrow path trailed 
 through the forest, the entrance to which was almost hidden 
 by branches. This Jendzian entered and shortly disappeared 
 with Helena in the thicket and the drakness. Meanwhile 
 Volodiyovski had stopped his horse and that of Zagloba. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 679 
 
 "In the name of God what are you doing?" said the noble. 
 
 "We must delay the pursuit. There is no ether way of 
 rescuing the princess." 
 
 "We are lost." 
 
 "Let us be lost! Stop here, right by the side of the road. 
 . . . Here, here." 
 
 Both tried to hide themselves in the dark shadows of the 
 trees. The mighty tramping of the Tartar horses approached, 
 and rumbled along like a wild tempest, causing the whole 
 forest to resound. 
 
 "It has come," said Zagloba. He lifted the wine skin to 
 his lips and drank and drank. Then he shook himself. "In 
 the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost!" cried he, "I 
 am ready to die." 
 
 "Wait, wait," exclaimed Volodiyovski, "three of them are 
 riding in advance; there's just what I desired." 
 
 On the clear road there appeared three horsemen, who 
 evidently had the best steeds, so-called wolf-hunters of the 
 Ukraine, their name implying power to overtake the speediest 
 wolf. A few hundred steps behind them were some others, 
 and still farther behind was a dense mass of the horde. 
 
 When the first three had come close to the ambush, two 
 shots rang out, and then Volodiyovski sprang like a panther 
 into the middle of the road, and in a second, ere Zagloba had 
 time to think, or had time to exactly appreciate what had 
 happened, the third Tartar fell as if struck by lightning. 
 
 "Mount!" shouted the little knight. 
 
 Zagloba did not wait for further instructions. They fled 
 along the highway like two wolves chased by a pack of 
 bloodthirsty hounds. Meantime, the Tartars in the rear 
 reached their dead comrades, and when they saw that the 
 hunted wolves could inflict deadly wounds, they paused for 
 a while to wait for their other comrades. 
 
 "See!" said Volodiyovski, "I knew that we could retard 
 them." 
 
 But though the fleeing ones had gained an advantage of 
 a few hundred steps, the pursuit was not interrupted for long, 
 but the Tartars now rode in larger companies, and no small 
 detachment now pushed forward as before. 
 
 The horses of the fleeing ones, however, became exhausted 
 by the long ride, and their speed slackened. Zagloba's horse 
 in particular, as it bore considerable burden, stumbled re- 
 peatedly; the few remaining hairs on the old man's head stood 
 up like bristles at the thought that he might fall. 
 
68o WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Michael, dearest Michael, do not desert me!" he crifed in 
 despair. 
 
 "Bon't worry about that," replied the little knight. 
 
 "This horse, may the wolves — " he did not finish the 
 sentence, an arrow swished by his ear followed by more, 
 whistling and humming about like bees and gadflies. One 
 arrow sped so close to Zagloba's ear, that its haft almost 
 touched him. 
 
 Volodiyovski turned and again fired two shots at his pur- 
 suers. 
 
 Zagloba's horse now stumbled so badly, that its nostrils 
 almost touched the ground. 
 
 "By the living God! my horse is breaking d-own," cried 
 Zagloba in a heart-breaking voice. 
 
 "Get off the saddle and into the woods," ordered Volodi- 
 yovski. 
 
 Then he reined in his horse and springing off disappeared 
 with Zagloba into the darkness. 
 
 But this manoeuvre did not escape the eyes of the Tartars. 
 Several of them sprang from their horses, and continued the 
 pursuit. 
 
 The branches tore the bap off Zagloba's head, slapped him 
 in the face, and caught his coat, but the noble kept bravely 
 on, and ran as if he were but thirty years old. At times 
 he fell, but he rose again, and ran on still faster panting and 
 puffing like a bellows. Finally he fell into a hole and felt 
 that he could not get out of it, for his strength had deserted 
 him entirely. 
 
 "Where are you?" whispered Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Here in a hole, all is over with me. Save me, Michael!" 
 
 But Pan Michael jumped immediately into the hole and 
 closed Zagloba's mouth with his hand. 
 
 "Keep still, perhaps, they won't notice us; at any rate, we 
 will defend ourselves." 
 
 Meanwhile, the Tartars came up. Some indeed nassed the 
 hole, thinking that the runaways were ahead; others advanced 
 slowly, looking about them carefully in all directions. 
 
 The knights held their breath. 
 
 "Let one fall in here," thought Zagloba in desperation, 
 "I'll fix him." 
 
 Now sparks flew all about, the Tartars began to strike fire. 
 In the light their wild faces could be seen, with protruding 
 cheek-bones and thick lips; how they blew at the fliekerino- 
 wood! For some time they kept going about in a circle, but 
 
THE PERIL OF ZAGLOBA AND PAN MICHAL. 
 
WITH FIBE AND SWORD. 68 r 
 
 a few steps away from the hole. They approached like ill- 
 omened phantoms of the forest, and came nearer every mo- 
 ment. 
 
 A moment later a great uproar arose from the highway 
 and penetrated the silent depths of the forest. 
 
 The Tartars ceased striking fire, and stood dumbfounded. 
 Volodiyovski's hand convulsively grasped Zagloba's arm. 
 
 The noise grew louder, and suddenly red lights flashed up, 
 and following them, the sound of volleys, the sound of 
 muskets; then another and another mingled with shouts of 
 "Alllah, Allah!" Then was heard the clash of sabres, the 
 neighing of horses, the trampling of hoofs and tumultuous 
 uproar. A battle was taking place on the highway. 
 
 "Ours, ours!" shouted Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Kill, slay, cut, slaughter!" roared Zagloba. 
 
 The next moment several dozen Tartars rushed past the 
 hole in wild confusion in the direction of their comrades. 
 
 Volodiyovski could not restrain himself any longer; he 
 followed close upon their heels into the thicket amid the 
 darkness. 
 
 Zagloba remained at the bottom of the pit. After a time 
 he attempted to crawl out, but he could not; every bone in 
 his body was aching, he could hardly stand on his feet. 
 
 "Wait you rascals," said he, looking about him. "You 
 have run away, but it's a pity one of you didn't stay here. 
 I sigh for company and wouldn't I show him where pepper- 
 grows. Oh Pagans, I will slaughter you like cattle! My 
 God, the noise is growing louder! I would that Prince Yere- 
 my himself were there, he would make it hot for you. You 
 shout, 'Allah, Allah!' soon the wolVes will yelp 'Allah!' over 
 your carrion; but think of it, Michael has left me here alone. 
 Well, it is no wonder, for he is young and fiery. After this 
 expedition, I will follow him to hell, for he is not a friend 
 that leaves one in distress, he is a wasp. In one moment 
 he stung three of them. If I only had the wine-skin here; 
 but the Devil has surely taken it. The horses must have 
 trampled over it. The insects are biting me in this cursed 
 hole. But what was that?" 
 
 The shouting and the sound of muskets now sounded in 
 the dircetion of the open field and of the first forest. 
 
 "Ah!" said Zagloba, "they are at their heels already. Oh, 
 dog-brothers you did not hold your ground. Thanks be to 
 G-od, most High!" ' 
 
 The shouts grew still fainter. 
 
682 WITH FIRE AKD SWORD. 
 
 "They ride Taliantly," murmured the nobleman, 'Tjut I 
 see that I am doomed to stay in this hole, perhaps, to become 
 the prey of wolves. First Bohun, then the Tartars, and at 
 last the wolves. May God given Bohun to the stake; and 
 madness to the wolves; it was the Tartars who ran, our men 
 will n-ot spare them. Michael! Michael!" But only silence 
 answered to Zagloba's shouts; the forest murmured, and afar 
 off, the noises grew fainter and fainter. 
 
 "If matters remain like this, I shall have to sleep here. 
 The devil take it! Hello! Michael!"' 
 
 But Zagloba's patience had to stand a longer test, for it 
 was dawn when the galloping of the horses was heard again 
 on the road and light broke in the forest. 
 
 "Pan Michael, here I am!" called out the nobleman. 
 
 "Creep out of there."' 
 
 "How can I?"' 
 
 Pan Michael stood at the edge of the hole with a torch 
 in his hand. He stretched out his other hand to Zagloba, and 
 said: 
 
 "Well, the Tartars are gone. We drove them beyond the 
 forest.' 
 
 "And who was with you?" 
 
 "Kushel and Eotzvorovski with two thousand horse. My 
 dragoons were also with them." 
 
 "And were there many Tartars?"" 
 
 "Well, a couple of thousand." 
 
 "God be praised! Give me a drink, for I am faint." 
 
 Two hours later Zagloba sat in a comfortable saddle among 
 Yolodiyovski's dragoons. He had had his fill of food and 
 drink. Beside him rode the little knight, who said: 
 
 "Don't worry; for even if we do not reach Zabaraj in com- 
 pany ^ith the princess, it is better anyway, than if she had 
 fallen into the hands of the pagans." 
 
 "But, perhaps, Jendzian will convey her to Zbaraj ?" asked 
 Zagloba. 
 
 "He will not do that. The highways will be occupied. 
 For the chambuls which we have repulsed, wil return soon 
 to follow in our footsteps. Moreover, Burlay mav arrive at 
 any moment at Zbaraj, before Jendzian could get there. On 
 the other side Khmyelnitski and the Khan are marching 
 from Konstantinov." 
 
 "Oh, my God! then the princess will fall into a net." 
 
 "It is Jendzian's lookout to get through between Zbaraj 
 and Konstantinov in time, and here Khmyelnitsi's squadrons 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWOBD. 583 
 
 and the hordes of the Khan surround them. I believe that 
 he appreciates this fact." 
 
 "God grant it." 
 
 "The boy is as cunning as a fox. You are a shrewd fellow, 
 I admit; but he is still more crafty. We worried our heads 
 over plans of how to save the girl, but at the end we were 
 helpless. He made everything all right again. He will crawl 
 out of this difficulty like a snake, for his own life is at stake. 
 Trust in God, who has protected her so many times; and 
 remember that in Zbaraj you bade me have confidence when 
 Zalihar came there." 
 
 These words somewhat consoled Zagloba, but he became 
 lost in thought. 
 
 "Pan Michael," said he, after a time, "have you asked 
 Kushel where Skshetuski is?" 
 
 "He is in Zbaraj, and thank God, he is well. He came with 
 Zatsvilikhovski, from Prince Koretski." 
 
 ■'But what shall we tell him?" 
 
 "That is a knotty point?" 
 
 "He still believes, does he not, that the girl was murdered 
 in Kiev?" 
 
 "That's so." 
 
 "And have you told Kushel, or any one else whence we 
 came?" 
 
 "Not as yet, for I thought it best to talk matters over first." 
 
 "It would be better to keep, the whole matter a secret," said 
 Zagloba, "for should the girl (God forbid) fall again into 
 the hands of the Cossacks or Tartars, this would be new 
 sorrow for Skshetuski, just as if someone should tear open 
 his recently-healed wounds." 
 
 "I will stake my head that Jendzian will get her through 
 all right." 
 
 "I would stake my own too, but misfortune stalks abroad 
 like a pestilence. Let us drop the subject, and leave every- 
 thing to the will of God." 
 
 "So be it. But will Podbipyenta keep the secret from 
 Skshetuski?" 
 
 "You do not know him, he pledged his word of honor, 
 which is sacred to this strange Lithuanian." 
 
 Kushel now joined them, and they rode on together in 
 the early morning discussing public affairs, the arrival of 
 the commanders at Zbaraj in consequence of Prince Yere- 
 my's commands, the expected arrival of the prince himself, 
 and the terrible battle which could not be avoided with the 
 whole force of Khmyelnitski. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 At Zbaraj, Volodiyovski and Zagloba found all the royal 
 forces gathered, and awaiting the enemy. Here were the 
 Cup-bearer who had come from Konstantinov and Lants- 
 koronsM the Castellan of Kamenets who first warred at Bar, 
 and the third commander. Pan Firley of Dombrovitsa the Cas- 
 tellan of Belsk, Andrey Sierakovski the secretary of the 
 crown and Pan Konyetspolski the standard bearer, and Pan 
 Pshiyemski the general of the artillery, who was especially ex- 
 perienced in the capture of towns and their defence. And 
 with them ten thousand troops besides the forces of Prince 
 Yeremy who had been previously stationed at Zbaraj. 
 
 Pshiyemski pitched his camp on the southern slope of the 
 town and fortress behind the two lakes and the Gnierna rivu- 
 let, formed a powerful camp which he fortified according to 
 the foreign fashion so that it could only be taken from the 
 front as it was protected on the rear and sides by the lakes, 
 the stream and the castle. In this camp the commanders 
 purposed to resist Khmyelnitski and to hold him in check 
 until the king should arrive with the rest of his forces and 
 the general levy of the entire nobility. But could this plan 
 be carried out against the might of Khmyelnitski? Many 
 doubted that this could be done, and gave good reasons for 
 their doubts, one of them being the disorder in the camp 
 itself. First of all, discord was brewing in secret among the 
 leaders. The Commanders had come to Zbaraj unwillingly, 
 they yielded to the will of Prince Yeremy. They had wished 
 at first to defend Konstantinov, but when news was spread 
 that Prince Yeremy promised to take part in the struggle 
 only on condition that Zbaraj should be selected for the place 
 of defence, the soldiers declared to the royal commanders 
 that they wished to go to Zbaraj, and would fight nowhere 
 elso. Neither persuasions nor the authority of the com- 
 manders were of any avail, and the commanders soon dis- 
 covered that should they resist longer, the army, from the 
 hussar regiments down to the last soldiers from the foreign ■ 
 684 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 685 
 
 contingent would leave and go . over to Vishnyovyetski's 
 standard. This was but another deplorable example of the 
 lack of discipline so frequent in those days, caused by the 
 incompetence of the leaders, the discord among them, and 
 the fear of Khmyelnitski's strength, and the unheard-of de- 
 feats, especially that of Pilavyets. 
 
 Consequently, the commanders were obliged to go to 
 Zbaraj, where in spite of the royal appointments, the su- 
 preme command passed into the hands of Vishnyovyetski; for 
 the army would obey only him, fight and ie under him alone. 
 But this real leader had not yet come to Zbaraj and there- 
 fore the restlessness of the troops increased, discipline was 
 lax, and their hearts grew faint. For it was already known 
 that Khmyelnitski and the Khan were approaching with an 
 army the like of which had not been seen since the days of 
 Tamerlane. Fresh rumors spread through the camp like 
 ill-omened birds, new and more alarming rumors came ever 
 and anon which weakened the courage of the soldiers. It 
 was feared that a panic like the one at Pilavyets might sud- 
 denly occur and scatter this handful of troops that barred 
 Khmyelnitski's way to the heart of the Commonwealth. The 
 leaders themselves lost their heads. Their contradictory 
 orders were not carried out, and if at all, unwillingly. Yere- 
 my alone could rescue the camp, the army and the country. 
 
 As soon as Zagloba and Volodiyovski arrived with the 
 troops of Kushel they mingled at once in the vortex of mili- 
 ^ tary life. No sooner did they reach the square than they were 
 surrounded by officers of different regiments who eagerly in- 
 quired after news. At the sight of the captive Tartars new 
 hope arose in the hearts of the curious. "They have stam- 
 peded the Tartars, they have taken Tartar prisoners; God 
 has granted a victory," cried some. "The Tartrs are here 
 and Burlay with them," cried others. "To arms, men! To 
 the ramparts!" The repprt spread through the camp, and 
 Kushel's victory was magnified as it went from mouth to 
 mouth; a rapidly increasing crown gathered • about the pris- 
 oners. "Kill them," they cried, "what shall we do with 
 them?" Questions fell like snowflakes, but Kushel would 
 not answer and went to the quarters of the Castellan of 
 Belsk to report. Volodiyovski and Zagloba were greeted 
 by acquaintances in the Eussian squadron, but they got 
 away as soon as they could, for they wished to see Skshe- 
 tuski. 
 
686 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 They found him in the castle, together with the old Zats- 
 vilikhovski, two monks of St. Bernard that belonged there, 
 and Pan Longin. Skshetuski grew somewhat pale when he 
 saw them. He closed his ejes, for their sight brought him 
 too many sad recollections to bear without pain. But he 
 greeted them calmly, even joiirfully, asked them where they 
 had been and was content with any answer they gave, for 
 believing the princess to be dead, he wished for nothing, 
 hoped for nothing, and had not the slightest idea that the 
 long absence of his friends had any bearing upon the princess. 
 Xor did they make any mention of the purpose of their expe- 
 dition, although Longin gazed at one then at the other, with 
 a questioning look, sighing and twisting about in his place, 
 hunting for even a shadow of hope in their faces. But both 
 were taken up by Skshetuski, whom Pan ilichael embraced 
 again and again, for his heart melted at the sight of that 
 faithful friend who had suffered so much and lost so much 
 that life was scarce worth the living. 
 
 ''You see," said he to Skshetuski, "we shall have all our 
 old comrades with us again and you shall be happy with us. 
 We are on the eve of a war the like of which we have not 
 seen before and which fills the heart of every soldier with 
 delight. If God restores to you your health, j'ou will often 
 find yourself at the head of the hussars." 
 
 "God has already restored me my health," replied Skshe- 
 tuski, "and I wish nothing for myself except to serve as long 
 as service is necessary." 
 
 Skshetuski was indeed really well, for his youth and vigor- 
 ous constitution had overcome his illness. Grief had torn his 
 soul but could not destroy his body. He had merely grown 
 thin and yellow so that his forehead, his cheeks and his nose 
 looked as if moulded of church wax; his former austere look 
 had settled more deeply on his face which had an expression 
 of rigid calmness such as is seen on the face of a corpse. 
 There were now silver threads woven in his dark beard; but 
 in other respects he did not differ from other men, except 
 that contrary to the custom of a soldier he avoided tumults, 
 crowds and drinking bouts, preferring to associate with 
 monks, listening with attention to their discourses about 
 convent life, and the hereafter. But in regard to the war, 
 he performed his duties conscientiously and interested, him- 
 self equally with the others in regard to the expected siege. 
 
 Soon indeed the conversation turned to this subject, for 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 687 
 
 no one in the camp, in the castle, and in the town, thought 
 of anything else. Then old Zatsvilikhovski enquired about 
 the Tartars and about Burlay whom he had known for a 
 long time. 
 
 "He is a great warrior," said he, _ "and it is to be regretted 
 that he now rebels against his own country with the others. 
 We served together at Khotsim, he was then but a youth 
 but already he gave promise of becoming a remarkable man." 
 
 "Why, he comes from the Dnieper regions and leads the 
 Trans-Dnieper men," said Skshetuski, "how is it then, father, 
 that he marches up now from the south from Kamenets?" 
 
 "Probably," said Zatsvilikhovski. "Khmyelnitski pur- 
 posely sent him there to spend the winter, when Tukhay Bey 
 remained on the Dnieper and the Murza greatly hates Burlay 
 from former days. No one has made it so hot for the Tartars 
 as Burlay." 
 
 "And now he becomes their messmate?" 
 
 "So it is," said Zatsvilikhovski, "such are the times! But 
 Khmyelnitski will take care that they do not eat each other 
 up." 
 
 "And when do you expect Khmyelnitski to be here, 
 father?" asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Any day, who can tell. The commanders ought to send 
 out one scouting party after another, but they don't do it. 
 I had a hard time to get them to send Kushel southward, 
 and Piglovski to Cholhanski Kamyen. I wanted to go my- 
 self, but there is council after council here. . . . They 
 should send out some squadrons with the crown secretary. 
 They should make haste lest it be too late. God send us 
 the prince, or disgrace will befall us like that of Pilavyets." 
 
 "I saw the soldiers when we rode through the square," 
 said Zagloba, "and it appeared to me that there are more 
 fools among them than good men, they are only fit for shop- 
 keepers and not to be our messmates, who love glory, and 
 value it more than life." 
 
 "What are you talking about?" said the old man sharply. 
 "I don't wish to insinuate anything against your bravery, 
 though I have my own opinion about that, but the soldiers 
 here are the flower of the chivalry of the Commonwealth. 
 They need only a head, a leader. Kamyenyetski is a good 
 cavalry officer but no leader; Pan Firley is old, and as to the 
 Cup-bearer, well — he with Prince Dominik made a reputa- 
 tion at Pilavyets. No wonder that no one will obey them. 
 
688 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 A soldier sheds his blood readily, if he is sure that it is ne- 
 cessary, but he will not sacrifice himself needlesssly. But now 
 instead of preparing for the siege they are quarreling about 
 the positions they should hold." 
 
 "Is there a sufficiency of provisions?" asked Zagloba with 
 alarm. 
 
 "Xot as much as are needed; but we are worse off in re- 
 gard to fodder. Should the siege last over a month we shall 
 have only shavings and stones for the animals." 
 
 '"There is still time enough to make provision," said Volo- 
 diyovsky. 
 
 "Then go and tell them that. God send our prince, I re- 
 peat." 
 
 "You are not the only one, who longs for him," inter- 
 rupted Longin. 
 
 "I know it," answered the old man. "Look out upon the 
 square. All who are upon the ramparts are eagerly looking 
 towards old Zbaraj: others mount the towers, and if anyone 
 cries out jokingly 'He comes' everyone goes mad from Joy. 
 The thirsty deer pants not more eagerly for the water than 
 we for him. "Would that he could get here before Khmyel- 
 nitski for I fear that impediments are in his way." 
 
 "We pray for his safe arrival all day long," said one of 
 the monks of St. Bernard. 
 
 The prayers and wishes of all the knights were soon to 
 be fulfilled, though the following day brought still greater 
 anxiety and was fraught with evil omens. It was Thursday, 
 July 8th, when a frightful storm burst upon the town and 
 over the newly-built ramparts. Eain poured down in tor- 
 rents. Part of the earthworks was washed away. The 
 Gniezna and both lakes overfiowed. In the evening light- 
 ning struck a section of infantry under Pan Firley the Cas- 
 tellan of Belsk, killed several men and tore the flag to shreds. 
 This was looked upon as an evil omen — a visible sign of 
 God's wrath, especially as Pan Firley was a Calvinist. Za- 
 globa proposed that a deputation be sent to him with a 
 request that he become converted, for God's blessing could 
 not abide with an army whose leader was living in errors 
 obnoxious to heaven. Many shared this opinion; and it was 
 only the respect due to the Castellan and his dignity that 
 prevented the sending of the deputation. The general dis- 
 couragement increased. The storm raged without interrup- 
 tion. The ramparts, though strengthened with stones and 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. ggg 
 
 palisades, became so soft that the cannon began to sink. 
 They were obliged to put boards under the cannons, mortars, 
 and even under the eight-pounders. In the deep trenches 
 the water rose to the height of a man. Night brought no 
 abatement. The tempest drove before it from the east gi- 
 gantic mountains of clouds that amidst dreadful thunderings 
 in the sky poured their entire store of rain, lightning and 
 thunder upon Zbaraj. Only the baggage attendants remained 
 in the tents, the soldiers, the commanders, with the excep- 
 tion of the commander of Kamenets, sought shelter in the 
 town. Had Khmyelnitski arrived with the tempest he could 
 have taken the camp without resistance. 
 
 Next morning the storm had somewhat abated, though it 
 was still raining off and on. Not before five o'clock did the 
 wind dissipate the clouds. The blue sky then showed itself 
 against the camp, and in the direction of old Zbaraj a rainbow 
 of brilliant seven hues appeared, the mighty arch of which 
 extended with one arm beyond old Zbaraj, while with the 
 other it seemed to drink up the moisture of the Black Forest; 
 it gleamed and played against the background of the scud- 
 ding clouds. 
 
 Hope rose in all hearts. The knights returned to camp 
 and mounted the slippery ramparts in order to enjoy the 
 sight of the rainbow. They began at once to converse in 
 lively fashion and to conjecture what this favorable sign 
 might mean, when Volodiyovski, who with others stood 
 close to the trench, shielded his lynx eyes with his hand and 
 cried out: 
 
 "Soldiers are approaching from under the rainbow! sol- 
 diers!" 
 
 A commotion arose as if a whirlwind had stirred the mass 
 of people and shouts arose. The words "soldiers are com- 
 ing" flew like arrows from one end of the ramparts to the 
 other. The soldiers began to push and crowd and to gather 
 into groups. Then the noise ceased and it became still; all 
 hands shaded their eyes, all eyes gazed into the distance, and 
 all with bated breath and beating hearts continued to look 
 outward. 
 
 And then from beneath the seven-colored arch something 
 emerged and became more and more distinct, rising out of 
 the distance and coming nearer and nearer and growing more 
 and more clearly visible, until at last flags and lances and 
 bunehuks appeared, and then a forest of lances; their eyes 
 did not deceive them, these were soldiers. 
 44 
 
690 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Then a mighty shout burst simultaneously from the throats 
 of all, a shout of triumphant joy. 
 
 "Yeremy! Yeremy! Yeremy!" 
 
 Frenzy seized even the oldest soldiers. Some hurled them- 
 selves from the ramparts, waded through the trench, and ran 
 afoot across the flooded plain towards the approaching regi- 
 ments, others rushed to their horses, others laughed, others 
 wept, extending their hands towards heaven and crying out: 
 "He is coming, our father! our saviour! our leader!" One 
 might have thought that the siege was over, that Khmyel- 
 nitski was vanquished and the victory won. The squadrons 
 of the prince had drawn so near that the ensign could be 
 distinguished. As usual the regiments of the light cavalry 
 of the Prince's Tartars, Semenovs and the Wallachians ad- 
 vanced in front, behind them could be seen the foreign in- 
 fantry under Makhnitski — ^then Vurtsel's cannons, with the 
 dragoons and the heavy hussars. The sun's rays flashed 
 upon their armor and upon the points of the up-raised lances. 
 An unusual splendor shone upon the advancing army like 
 the halo of victory. 
 
 Skshetuski, who with Longin, stood upon the ramparts, 
 recognized from afar his own squadron which he had left 
 behind him in Zamost, and a faint flush sufEused his yel- 
 lowish cheeks. He drew deep breaths as if freeing himself 
 from some great burden and his eyes brightened. Before 
 him were days of superhuman labors, heroic battles, the best 
 means of healing the wounds of his heart and of banishing 
 painful recollections, forcing them deeper and deeper into 
 the secret innermost depths of his soul. 
 
 Kearer and nearer came the squadrons, and now scarcely 
 a thousand steps separated them from the camp. 
 
 The chiefs came running, in order to witness the arrival 
 of the prince; the three commanders also, and with them 
 Pshhiyemski the crown secretary, the Standard bearer of the 
 crown, the chief of Kjasnostavsk, Pan Korf and all other 
 officers, Polish as well as foreign. All shared the general 
 joy, especially Pan Lantskoronski, who was a soldier, a 
 greater knight than a commander, but who loved the glory 
 of war. He pointed with his baton in the direction whence 
 Prince Yeremy came, and in a voice loud enough to be 
 heard by all, he cried: 
 
 "Behold, there comes our greatest leader and I am the 
 first to surrender my command and authority into his hands." 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 69 1 
 
 Now the regiments of the prince entered the camp. They 
 numbered altogether three thousand men, but they bore in 
 their hearts the courage of a hundred thousand. They were 
 indeed the victors of Pohrebyshch Niemyerow, Makhnovka, 
 and Konstantinov. Acquaintances and friends greeted each 
 other. At the end, the Vurtsel artillery toiled in wearily, 
 dragging after them four cannon, two eight-pounders and 
 six captured grape-shot guns. Altogether, twelve guns. The 
 prince, who had personally supervised the departure of his 
 troops from old Zbaraj, arrived in the evening after sunset. 
 Everybody ran to receive him; the soldiers bearing pine 
 sticks, lamps and torches and chips of combustible wood sur- 
 rounded th& prince's horse and barred his passage. They 
 seized the bridle of his horse so as to have a longer look at 
 him, they kissed his garments, and almost lifted him on 
 their shoulders. The enthusiasm rose to such a stage that 
 not only the native soldiery but also the foreign contingent 
 declared that they would serve him without pay for three 
 months. The throng about the prince so increased that he 
 could not advance a step; but sat upon his white palfrey sur- 
 rounded by the soldiers like a shepherd among his flock. 
 There was no end to the shouts and hurrahs. The evening 
 was clear and still. Myriads of stars twinkled in the dark 
 sky; ere long good omens appeared. Just as Pan Lants- 
 korovski with his field marshal's baton in his hand ap- 
 proached the prince in order to hand it over to him, a star 
 fell from the vault of the sky and leaving after it a stream 
 of light like a comet, disappeared in the direction of Kon- 
 stantinov, from whence Khmyelnitski was known to be ad- 
 vancing. 
 
 "That was Khmyelnitski's star," cried the soldiers. 
 
 "A miracle! A miracle! A visible sign! Long live Yeremy 
 the victor," exclaimed a thousand voices; and the commander 
 of Konstantinov approached and made a sign with his hand 
 to indicate that he wished to speak. Silence fell and he 
 said: 
 
 "The King gave me this baton, but I surrender it into 
 your more deserving hands, victor! and wish to be the 
 first to submit myself to your orders." 
 
 "And we also," exclaimed the two other commanders. 
 
 Three batons were extended towards the prince, but he 
 drew back his hand and said: 
 
 "It was not I who gave you your rank, and therefore I 
 cannot take it from you." 
 
692 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Together with the three, let there be a fourth," said Fir- 
 ley. 
 
 "Long live Vishnyovyetski! long live the commanders!'' 
 exclaimed all the nobles, "we will live and die together." 
 
 At this moment the prince's horse raised its head, shook 
 its reddish mane, and neighed mightily, while all the horses 
 in the camp answered in unison. 
 
 This also was taken as an omen of victory, the eyes of 
 the soldiers flashed fire, the thirst for battle filled their hearts, 
 and a tremor of enthusiasm ran through their bodies. The 
 chiefs shared the general enthusiasm. The Cup-Bearer wept 
 and prayed, the Castellan of Kamenets and the Starosta of 
 Krasnostavsk were the first to clatter their sabres, exciting 
 the soldiers, who, rushing upon the ramparts, stretched their 
 hands out in the darkness towards the direction from whence 
 they expected the enemy, and cried aloud: 
 
 "Come on, you dog-brothers, we are ready for you." 
 
 That night no one slept in the camp; and until the dawn 
 broke the shouts lasted and the pine torches burned. 
 
 In the morning the crown secretary Sierakovski returned 
 from a scouting expedition to Cholhanski Kamyen and re- 
 ported that the enemy were about five miles from the camp. 
 The expedition had given battle to an outnumbering horde 
 and the two Maiakovski, Oleksich and several other trusty 
 soldiers had fallen. Prisoners that had been taken affirmed 
 that behind the horde, Khmyelnitski and the Khan with all 
 their forces were approaching. The day passed in waiting 
 and preparations for defence. The prince having assumed 
 command immediately put the army in order, indicating 
 where each section should take its position and directing haw 
 each should defend itself and give succor to the. others. A 
 cheerful spirit displayed itself in the camp; discipline was 
 established, and in place of the former confusion, conflict of 
 authorit}', and uncertainty, good order and accuracy pre- 
 vailed. In the forenoon all took up their positions. The 
 sentries thrown forward reported from time to time what 
 was going on in the vicinity. Servants sent out to the 
 neighboring villages brought back as much of provisions and 
 provender as they could lay their hands upon. The soldiers 
 upon the ramparts chattered cheerfully and sang, and passed 
 the night in sleeping about the camp-fires, their swords in 
 their hands, ready for the fray at any moment that the for- 
 tress might be stormed. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 693 
 
 At dawn indeed something black emerged from the direc- 
 tion of Vishnyovtsa. The bells in the town sounded an 
 alarm, and in the camp the plaintive notes of the trumpets' 
 put the soldiers on the alert. The infantry regiments drew 
 up on the ramparts, in the openings the cavalry stood ready 
 to attack at the first signal, and along the entire line of the 
 intrenchment little clouds of smoke arose from the fuses. 
 
 At this moment the prince appeared upon his white 
 charger. He wore silver armour but no helmet. His eyes 
 shone with gladness and no shadow of concern clouded his 
 countenance. 
 
 "We have guests, gentlemen, we have guests," he repeated, 
 riding along the ramparts. 
 
 Silence reigned; nothing was heard but the flutter of ban- 
 ners playing in the breeze. The enemy approached nearer 
 and could now be plainly seen. 
 
 It was but the first wave that dashed up now, not Khmyel- 
 nitsky and the Khan, but a reconnaissance of thirty thou- 
 sand picked Tartars, armed with bows, muskets, and sabres. 
 Having taken captive fifteen hundred men that had been 
 sent out for provisions, they advanced in dense columns from 
 Vishnyovtsa, and stretching out in a long semicircle "they 
 went around from the opposite side towards old ZbaraJ. 
 ' The prince perceiving that this was but the vanguard of 
 the approaching army ordered the cavalry to advance from 
 the entrenchments. Words of command were heard, the 
 , regiments advanced and poured out from behind the ram- 
 parts like bees from a hive. The plain was filled with men 
 and horses. From afar the captains with batons in their 
 hands could be seen riding around in squadrons placing 
 them in line of battle. The horses snorted and occasionally 
 their neighs sounded through the lines. Then from out the 
 mass emerged two divisions of Tartars and Semenovs of the 
 prince -and went forward in an easy trot. Their bows shook 
 on their backs,, their caps gleamed — they rode in silence, 
 at their head the fair-haired Vyershul, whose horse reared 
 like mad, throwing its forehoofs in the air as if it wished to 
 toss aside its bit and throw itself into the tumult. 
 
 There was not a cloud in the blue sky, the day was clear 
 and serene, the advancing host could be discerned as on the 
 palm of'the hand. 
 
 At this moment there appeared from the direction of old 
 ZbaraJ a small wagon-train belonging to the prince, which 
 
694 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 had not entered with the army and now hurried on as fast 
 as possible lest the horde should capture it. Indeed it did 
 .not escape their Tigilancej and soon the long half-moon 
 pushed forward to suround it. Shouts of "Allah!" came to 
 the ears of the infantry on the ramparts. Vyershul's squad- 
 rons flew like a whirlwind to the rescue. 
 
 But the half-moon reached the train first and surrounded 
 it in a moment like a black ribbon. Simultaneously some 
 thousands of the horde ^ith unearthly howls turned towards 
 Vyershul to surround him also. But here Vyershul's ex- 
 perience and the skill of his soldiers came into play. When 
 he saw that the horde was surrounding him he divided his 
 forces into three parts and galloped to the sides, then he 
 divided them into four parts and then into two; so that 
 each time the enemy had to swing round having no oppo- 
 nent to face. The enemy's wings were thus broken. At the 
 fourth turning they met breast to breast. Vyershul at once 
 attacked the weakest part with his whole strength broke 
 through the line at the first crash and got in the rear of the 
 enemy. Then careless of pursuit he swept towards the 
 wagon-train. Old veterans, who from the ramparts had 
 watched this manoeuvre stuck their arms akimbo and 
 shouted and exclaimed: 
 
 "May the balls strike them! only the Prince's captains 
 can lead in this way." 
 
 Then in the form of a sharp wedge Vyershul flew towards 
 the wagon-train and struck the ring encircling it as an 
 arrow pierces the body of a man, and immediately pene- 
 trated to the centre. Now instead of two combats one raged 
 alone, but all the fiercer. It was a wonderful sight. The 
 wagon-train in the centre of the plain like a moving fortress 
 puffed out clouds of smoke and spat forth fire. Encircling 
 it a black swarm like a mighty whirlwind, horses rushing 
 about without riders; within a wild uproar and the rattling 
 of muskets. In one place some were crowding upon each 
 other, in another they kept unbroken order. As a wild boar 
 that is surrounded tears with his white tusks the blood- 
 thirsty pack of hounds, so that wagon-train defended itself 
 against the Tartars, hoping that other and stronger aid than 
 Viyershul's might come. 
 
 Indeed it was not long before the red dragoons of -Kushel 
 and Volodiyovski swept along the plain, looking like red 
 flowers driven along by the breeze. They reached the crowd 
 of Tartars and rushing into it as if into a black forest, were 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 695 
 
 soon lost to sight; but the terrible uproar grew louder. The 
 soldiers wondered that the Prince did not send at once a 
 sufficient force to the rescue; but he delayed purposely in 
 order to show the soldiers the kind of warriors that he had 
 brought with him, and so to increase their courage and 
 prepare them for greater dangers. 
 
 The firing from the wagon-train grew fainter, there was 
 evidently no time to load, or the musket barrels had grown 
 too hot. But the shouts of the Tartars grew louder. Then 
 the prince gave a signal and immediately three squadrons of 
 hussars, his own under Skshetuski, one under the Starosta 
 of Krasnostavsk, and a royal squadron under Piglovski shot 
 out of the camp into the battle-field. They charged from 
 the rear, broke through the ring of Tartars like an axe, dis- 
 persed them over the plain, chased them towards the woods 
 and drove them a quarter of a mile from the camp. The little 
 wagon-train entered the entrenchments in safety amid the 
 shouts of triumph and thunders of cannon. 
 
 The Tartars however knowing that Khmyelnitski and the 
 Khan were close behind, remained in the neighborhood and 
 soon appeared again. With shouts of "Allah!" they circled 
 around the camp, occupying the highways and surrounding 
 the villages, from which black columns of smoke soon arose. 
 Quite a number of horsemen came up close to the entrench- 
 ments; these were at once attacked by the soldiers of the 
 prince, especially by detachments of Tartar, Wallaehian and 
 dragoon regiments. 
 
 Viyershul was unable to take part in these sallies. He had 
 received six wounds on his head while defending the wagon- 
 train anjUay in his tent as if dead. Volodiyovski, however, 
 was as red as a lobster from bloodstains, and could 
 /^arce appease his, thirst for combat, was everywhere to the 
 front. The skirmishes lasted until evening, the infantry and 
 the knights of reserved squadrons watched the fighting from 
 the ramparts as if looking upon a play. Many prisoners were 
 made and when Pan Michael had made an end of one he 
 turned again and his red uniform was seen flying all over 
 the field. Skshetuski from afar pointed him out to Pan 
 Lantskoronski as a curiosity, for whenever he met a Tartar, 
 the man fell as if struck by lightning. Zagloba, though he 
 could not be heard by Pan Michael, kept shouting out en- 
 couraging words from the ramparts. From time to time he 
 addressed the soldiers around him, saying: 
 
696 WITB FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "Look, gentlemen, that is the way I taught him to use his 
 sabre. Good! keep on! with God's aid he will soon equal 
 me." 
 
 The sun had set meantime, and the soldiers began to re- 
 tire from the field, on which there remained only dead men 
 and horses. In the town the bells rang the Angelus. 
 
 Night came on gradually but it did not grow dark, for all 
 about was the glow of fires. Many Tillages were in flames, 
 Zaloshtsits, Barzynts, Lublanki, Striyooka, Kretovits, Zar- 
 iedzie, Vakhlovka, and the entire vicinity as far as the eye 
 could see was ablaze. The clouds of smoke appeared red in 
 the night, the stars shone out from a red background. Great 
 flocks of birds frightened out of the woods and from the 
 thickets and ponds, circled in the reddened air like flying 
 flames. The cattle in their enclosures, frightened at the un- 
 usual sight, were bellowing pitifully. 
 
 "It is impossible that the vanguard alone has caused such 
 a conflagration," said the veterans to one another in the en- 
 trenchments, "without doubt Khmyelnitski with the Cos- 
 sacks and the entire horde is close at hand." 
 
 These were not mere surmises for Pan Sierakovski on the 
 day previous had brought news that the Hetman of the 
 Zaporojians together with the Khan were closely following 
 their vanguard, thus they were expected with certainty. All 
 the soldiers were upon the ramparts, the people were upon 
 the roofs and towers. All were greatly excited. Women 
 wept in the churches and raised imploring hands to the most 
 Holy Sacrament. The fearful suspense bore most heavily 
 upon all, in the camp, in the castle, and the town. 
 
 But it did not last long, the night had not passed when the 
 first ranks of the Cossacks and Tartars appeared on the hori- 
 zon. They were followed by more, by tens, by hundreds and 
 thousands, until it seemed as if all the trees of the forests 
 and groves had cut loose from their roots and were march- 
 ing towards Zbaraj. In vain did the eye seek an end to those 
 lines. As far as the eye could see there appeared a swarm 
 of men and horses the end of which appeared to- be lost in 
 the smoke and flame afar off. Like clouds or like locusts 
 they moved on, covering the entire region with a dreadful 
 moving mass. Before them came the threatening murmurs 
 of human voices like the sough of the wind among the tops 
 of hoary pines in the forest. About a quarter of a mile from 
 the camp they halted and spread themselves about and lit 
 their night-fires. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 697 
 
 "You see the fires!" whispered the soldiers, "they spread 
 farther than a horse can go in one breathing." 
 
 "Jesus Maria!" said Zagloba to Skshetuski. "I have within 
 me the courage of a lion and feel no fear, but I wish that ■ 
 before to-morrow a flaming thunderbolt might wipe them 
 from the earth. By the love of God, there are too many of 
 them. There will not be a greater throng in the valley of 
 Jehosaphat. And tell me, what do the thieves want? Would 
 it not be better if these thieves remained at home and worked 
 quietly on the land. How can we help it if God has made 
 us nobles and them peasants, with the duty of obedience im- 
 posed upon them. Puh! I get furious when I think about it. 
 I am a mild sort of a man and could be applied to wounds, 
 but let them not rouse my wrath! They have been allowed 
 too much liberty, too much bread, therefore they have mul- 
 tiplied like mice in a barn and now wish to fight with the 
 eats. But just wait! wait! here's a cat called Prince Yere- 
 my, and another whose name is Zagloba. What do you 
 think? Will such men stop to negotiate? If the peasants 
 were submissive then their lives might be spared, might they 
 not? One thing worries me all the time and that is if there 
 be a sufficient stock of provisions in the camp. To the devil 
 with it! Just look, gentlemen, there behind the conflagration 
 new fires arising, and further away still more fires, may the 
 black plague destroy such a gathering." 
 
 ."Why talk about negotiations," answered Skshetuski, 
 "when they believe they have everything in their own hands 
 and that they can wipe us out to-morrow." 
 
 "But they can't do it, can they?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "That rests with God, but at any rate since the prince 
 is here it will not be easy for them." 
 
 "You console me indeed. What do I care if it be easy 
 for them or not; the thing that concerns me is whether they 
 can succeed at all." 
 
 "It is no slight consolation for a soldier to feel that he 
 is not laying down his life for nothing." 
 
 "To be sure! to be sure! . . . But lightning strike it 
 all! and your consolation with it." 
 
 At this moment Longin and Volodiyovski approached. 
 
 "The Cossacks and the hordes altogether are said to num- 
 ber half a million," said the Lithuanian. 
 
 "May your tongue be cut out!" said Zagloba, "you bring 
 cheerful news." 
 
698 
 
 WJTB FIRE AXD SWOBD. 
 
 "It will be easier to repulse them in assault than to attack 
 them in the open field," answered Longin mildly. 
 
 "Xow that the prince and Khmyelnitski have at last met," 
 said Pan Michael, "there will be no talk aboiit negotiations. 
 Either the governor or the monk. To-morrow will be judg- 
 ment day/' he added rubbing his hands. 
 
 The little knight was right, in that war the two fiercest 
 lions had not yet met face to face. The one had conquered 
 the hetmans and the commanders; the other had defeated 
 the mighty Cossack atamans. Each had always been vic- 
 torious, each was the terror of his enemies; but this en- 
 counter was to decide whose scale was to rise or fall. Yish- 
 nyovyetski beheld from the ramparts the countless myriads 
 of Tartars and Cossacks and in vain strained his eyes to get 
 them all in view. Khmyelnitski from the field beheld the 
 castle and the camp and thought to himself: 
 
 "Over there is my most terrible enemy. If I crush him, 
 who then will stand in my way?" 
 
 It was evident that the struggle between these two men 
 would rage long and stubbornly, but the ultimate result could 
 not be doubtful. The Prince at Lubni and Yishnyovtsa stood 
 at the head of fifteen thousand men, the camp-servants in- 
 cluded; while behind the peasant chieftain stood all the forces 
 from the sea of Azov and the Don to the mouth of the 
 Danube. Then also with him was the Khan leading the 
 hordes of the Crimea, of Byalogrod, Xohaysh, and of the 
 Dobrudja; the tribes living along the banks of the Dnieper 
 and Dniester, the Xijovs, and a countless "blacks" from the 
 steppes, woods, ravines, towns, villages, hamlets, and farms, 
 and all who had formerly served under the crown; all these 
 were with Khmyelnitski. Besides these, Circasssians, Wal- 
 lachian, Karalash, Silistrian, and Eumelian Turks, and bands 
 of Servians and Bulgarians joined him. It seemed as if a 
 new migration of nations were taking place, that the nations 
 had abandoned their homes in the freezing steppes and 
 were going westward to conquer new lands and to found a 
 new empire. 
 
 This was the proportional strength of the contending 
 forces ... a handful against hundreds of thousands, an 
 island against the sea. It was no wonder therefore, that 
 many a heart beat with alarm; that not only this town, not 
 only this corner of the country, but the whole Common- 
 wealth looked upon this lonely entrenchment circled by a 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. Qgg 
 
 deluge of wild warriors as the tomb of noble knights and of 
 their great leader. 
 
 Khmyelnitski also regarded it in the same light, for hardly 
 had the fires been kindled in his camp when there appeared 
 before the entrenchments a Cossack envoy waving a white 
 flag, blowing upon his trumpet and crying out not to shoot 
 at him. 
 
 The sentinuels admitted him at once. 
 
 "I come from the hetman to Prince Yeremy," he said to 
 them. 
 
 The prince had not yet dismounted, and was on the walls, 
 his face bright as heaven. The fires were reflected in his 
 eyes and made a rosy halo about his delicate white face. 
 When the Cossack stood before- the prince he lost his power 
 of speech, his legs trembled, and ants seemed to be crawling 
 over his body although he was an experienced soldier and 
 had come as an envoy. 
 
 "Who are you?" asked the prince in a quiet tone. 
 
 "I am Captain Sokol. . . . sent by the hetman." 
 
 "And what is your message?" \ 
 
 The captain bowed his head several times as low as the 
 stirrups of the prince. 
 
 "Pardon me. Prince, I repeat what I was commanded to 
 say; I am innocent." 
 
 "Speak boldly." 
 
 "The hetman commanded me to announce to you that he 
 came as a guest to Zbaraj and intends to visit you at the 
 castle to-morrow." 
 
 "Tell him that not to-morrow, but to-day, I give a feast in 
 the castle," answered the prince. 
 
 Indeed an hour later the cannons thundered forth salutes, 
 shouts of joy were heard, and the windows of the palace were 
 illumined by thousands of gleaming lights. 
 
 When the Khan heard the vivats and the sound of the 
 kettledrums and trumpets, he stepped out in front of his 
 tent in company with his brother Nur-ed-Din, the sultana 
 Galga, Tukhay Bey, and many murzas, and sent for Khmyel- 
 nitski. 
 
 The hetman, though somewhat intoxicated, appeared at 
 once, and bowing and placing his fingers on his forehead, 
 on his chin, and on his breast, he awaited thepleasure of the 
 Khan. 
 
 For a long time the Khan gazed at the brightly-illumined 
 
yoo WITH FIRE A2fD SWORD. 
 
 palace shining in the distance and nodded his head, then 
 he ran his fingers through his thin beard falling in two 
 locks over his fur shuba and pointing to the shining windows, 
 asked: 
 
 "Hetman of the Zaporojians, what is going on there?" 
 
 '"ilighty Tsar," answered Khmyelnitski, "Prince Yeremy 
 is giving a feast." 
 
 The Khan was astonished. 
 
 "He is feasting?" 
 
 "It is a funeral feast," answered Khmyelnitski, "for to- 
 morrow they will all be dead." 
 
 Meanwhile fresh salvos arose from the castle and the 
 sounds of trumpets and confused shouts shouts reached the 
 Khan's ears. 
 
 "La Allah ila Allah," murmured the Khan, "this Giaour 
 has a lion heart." 
 
 After a short silence he added: 
 
 "I would rather be with him than with you." 
 
 Khmyelnitski trembled. He had paid dearly already for 
 the indispensable friendship of the Tartars, but he was not 
 sure of his terrible ally. The slightest whim of the Khan 
 would turn the horde against the Cossacks and irretrievably 
 ruin them. Khmyelnitski knew that the Khan was only 
 lending his aid for the sake of booty, gifts, and captives, and 
 that he regarded himself as a legitimate monarch, he blushed 
 inwardly that he was supporting an uprising against a king, 
 and that he was an accomplice of a Khmyelnitski against such 
 a Vishnyovyetski. 
 
 The Cossack commander often filled himself with drink 
 not only from force of habit but from despair. . . . 
 
 "Great monarch," he cried, "yeremy is our enemy. He 
 has driven the Tartars from the Trans-Dieper, he has hung 
 murzas like wolves upon the trees in order to spread terror, 
 he intended to ravage the Crimea with fire and sword." 
 
 "And you? have you committed no depredations in the 
 ulusas?" asked the Khan. 
 
 "I am your slave." 
 
 Tukhay Bey's blue lips began to tremble and his eyes 
 flashed. He had a deadly enemy among the Cossacks, who 
 once upon a time had destroyed and beaten down a whole 
 chambul and he himself had almost perished. The name 
 of that man forced itself with the power of hateful recollec- 
 tions to the lips of the murza; he could not restrain himself 
 and hissed out "Burlay! Burlay!" 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 70 1 
 
 "Tukhay Bey," said Khmyelnitski, "you and Burlay at the 
 exalted and wise command of the Khan poured water on 
 your blades last year." 
 
 A new salvo from the castle interrupted their discourse. 
 
 The Khan extended his hand and described a circle, en- 
 closing in it ZbaraJ, the castle, and the entrenchments. 
 "Will all that be mine to-morrow?" asked he addressing 
 Khmyelnitski. 
 
 "To-morrow, they must all die," answered Khmyelnitski, 
 his eyes glued upon the castle. 
 
 Then he bowed again, and touched with his hand his brow 
 and chin and breast, considering the interview closed. 
 
 The Khan wrapped himself in his fur, for the July night 
 was quite cool and turning towards the tent said: 
 
 "It is late ..." 
 
 All nodded, while the Khan deep in thought went slowly 
 to his tent murmuring in a low voice "La Allah ila Allah." 
 
 Khmyelnitski proceeded towards his own tent muttering 
 to himself on the way: "The castle, the town, the booty, and 
 the captives I leave to you; but Yeremy belongs to me, even 
 should I have to pay for him with my neck." 
 
 Gradually the fires began to die down. Gradually the dull 
 murmur of hundreds of thousands of voices died away; here 
 and there might be heard the sound of pipes, or the shouting 
 of the Tartar herdsmen as they drove horses to pasture 
 during the night; after a while however these sounds became 
 still, and sleep reigned over the countless legions of Cossacks 
 and Tartars. 
 
 Only in the castle was there a sound of revelry, as if a 
 wedding were being celebrated there. In the camp it was 
 generally expected that the storm would break on the mor- 
 row. Indeed, a throng of Cossacks, Tartars, and other wild 
 warriors advanced from Khmyelnitski at an early hour to- 
 wards the entrenchments like dark clouds enveloping the 
 summit of a mountain. The soldiers who on the preceding 
 day had been unable to count the camp-fires were now aston- 
 ished at the sight of this sea of heads. This was not yet an 
 attack, but an examination of the field, the ramparts, the 
 trenches and the entire Polish encampment. And as a swell- 
 ing wave of the ocean driven by the wind from afar ap- 
 proaches the shore, surges, foams with rage, strikes with a 
 roar and then recedes into the distance, so they made an 
 attack, here and there, receding and advancing again as if 
 
702 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 wishing to test the enemy's power of resistance and to con- 
 vince themselves that the mere sight of their numbers would 
 crush the spirit of the enemy before they destroyed its body. 
 
 They opened fire also and the balls fell thickly about the 
 camp, which quickly responded with lively volleys. Xow 
 there appeared upon the ramparts a procession bearing the 
 most Holy Sacrament in order to encourage the soldiers. 
 The priest Mukhovietski bore the golden Pix, raising it with 
 both hands before his face and sometimes high aloft. He 
 walked beneath an embroidered canopy, his face bore the 
 marks of asceticism, his eyes were closed, and upon his head 
 he wore a hood. iJeside him walked two priests who sup- 
 ported him under the elbows — Yaskolski the chaplain of 
 the hussars, formerly a famous soldier and well-versed in 
 the art of war, the other Jabkovski was also an ex-soldier, 
 a gigantic monk of St. Bernard and second in strength 
 throughout the whole camp only to Longin. The poles of 
 the canopy was carried by four noblemen, one of whom was 
 Zagloba, and they were preceeded by little girls with sweet 
 faces who .scattered flowers. The procession marched over 
 the entire length of the ramparts and after it marched the 
 officers of the army. The soldiers, when they beheld the 
 shining pix, the calm faces of the priests and the girls dressed 
 in their white garments, felt their hearts swell and became 
 filled with enthusiasm. The wind scattered the powerful 
 odor of burning myrrh in the censers, and the heads of all 
 were bowed in humility. JIukhovietski raised the pix aloft 
 from time to time and elevating his eyes towards heaven in- 
 toned the hymn beginning "Before such a great Sacrament." 
 
 The powerful voices of Yaskolski and Jabkovski continued 
 "We fall on our faces!"" and soon the entire army swelled 
 the chant "Let the old law give way to the new^" The deep 
 bass of the cannon accompanied the hymn and at times 
 hissing cannon-balls flew over the canopy or fell within the 
 ramparts, frightening Zagloba, who squeezed himself close 
 to the canopy-post. Especially did fear overcome him when 
 the procession halted for prayer. At such times the whizz- 
 ing of the cannon-balls could be distinctly heard flying over- 
 head like great birds in a flock. Zagloba grew more red in 
 the face, and chaplain Yaskolski looking aside over the field 
 murmured to himself "they are only fit to tend chickens and 
 should not meddle with cannon." Indeed the Cossacks had 
 very poor gunners and he as an old soldier could not calmly 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 703 
 
 bear the sight of this poor markmanship and waste of powder. 
 Again the procession moved on until it arrived at the other 
 end of tlie ramparts where there was no great pressure from 
 the enemy. After the Cossacks and Tartars had attempted 
 again and again to strike terror and panic among the be- 
 sieged, they finally withdrew to their own positions and re- 
 mained there. Meantime the procession had strengthened 
 the hearts of the besieged. 
 
 It was evident that Khmyelnitski was awaiting the arrival 
 of his wagon-train. He seemed to be so sure of capturing 
 the fort at the first assault that he scarcely had any trenches 
 made for the cannon and raised no other earthworks to de- 
 fend himself from the besieged. The wagon-train arrived 
 on the following day and arranged themselves in several tens 
 of rows of wagons stretching from Vernyakov to Denbina 
 a distance of about one mile. With it also arrived reinforce- 
 ments, first of which were the splendid Zaporojian infantry, 
 who could almost be compared to the Turkish janissaries, 
 and who were far better adapted to make an assault than the 
 Tartars or the rest of the "blacks" about Zbaraj.- 
 
 Tuesday, July 13th, was passed in feverish preparations 
 on both sides. There was no doubt that the assault had 
 been ordered, for trumpets and kettledrums sounded the 
 alarm from early morning among the Cossacks, while in the 
 Tartars' camp the great sacred drum, called the Bait, rolled 
 like thunder. Evening fell clear and calm; but from the 
 lakes and the Gniezna light fogs arose — at length the first 
 star twinkled in the sky. 
 
 At once sixty Cossack cannons belched forth smoke and 
 flame with a simultaneous roar. Countless legions rushed 
 with frightful yells towards the walls — the assault had begun. 
 
 To the soldiers standing on the ramparts, the earth ap- 
 peared to tremble beneath their feet. The oldest veterans 
 could recall no such scene. 
 
 "Jesus Maria! what is that!" asked Zagloba standing beside 
 Skslietuski in a breach between the ramparts giving orders 
 to his hussars, "these are not men that are coming against us." 
 
 "You know that they are not men; the enemy are driving 
 oxen ahead so that we may waste our powder first upon 
 them." 
 
 The old nobleman grew red as a beet, his eyes started from 
 their sockets, and one word forced its way through his lips 
 which expressed his feelings at the moment "scoundrels." 
 
y04 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 The oxen, urged on with clubs and burning brands by 
 the wild herdsmen, became mad through fear. They rushed 
 forward with a terrible bellowing, now crowding each other, 
 now hurrying on, now scattering and turning backward; 
 urged by shouts and scourged with raw hides they surged up 
 to the ramparts. Now Vurtsel made his cannons speak, 
 smoke filled the air, the sky became red as scarlet, the fright- 
 ened beasts scattered as if dispersed by lightning, half of 
 them falling to the ground while the enemy marched over 
 their bodies. 
 
 Captives driven by spears and firebrands ran ahead with 
 sand bags with which to fill the trenches. These were pea- 
 sants from the neighborhood of Zbaraj who had not had 
 time to flee into the town before the enemy arrived, among 
 them were men both old and young, and also women. They 
 ran along weeping, shrieking, and their hands outstretched 
 towards heaven, praying for mercy. That wailing made the 
 hair stand on end but compassion was dead at that moment; 
 from the rear the spears of the Cossacks threatened them, 
 in front Yurtsel's cannon-balls crushed them, grape-shot tore 
 them to pieces and made long furrows amid the rows of these 
 wretched ones; they ran ahead wading in blood, stumbling, 
 rising again, and rushing onward, with a vast pack of Cos- 
 sacks, Turks, and Tartars close upon their heels. 
 
 The fosse was soon filled with corpses, blood and sandbags, 
 soon it was even with the ground and the enemy rushed over 
 with shouts and yells. 
 
 One regiment pushed on after the other; by the light of 
 the cannon flashes the officers could be seen d^i^^ng with 
 their batons fresh masses against the ramparts. The picked 
 troops assaulted the quarters and soldiers of Prince Yeremy, 
 for Khmyelnitski knew well that there would be the greatest 
 resistance. First the soldiers from Sich, behind them the 
 terrible Pereyaslav legions under Loboda, besides these Toro- 
 chenko led a regiment of Circassians, Kuak led the Karo- 
 vovsk regiment, Xechay the Bratlav, Stepka, the Uman, 
 ilrozoyetski the Korsun; there were also the Kalnik and the 
 powerful division of Byalotserkiev, fifteen thousand men, 
 and with them Khmyelnitski looking as red as Satan amid 
 the fires, his breast open and exposed to the shots of the 
 enemy, with the eye of an eagle and the face of a lion, amid 
 all the chaos, smoke, confusion of battle, and flames, planning 
 everything, ordering everything. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 705 
 
 Behind the Cossacks came the wild Don Cossacks then the 
 Circassians armed with knives; near by Tukhay Bey led 
 picked troops of Nogais, after them came the Subagazi Bya- 
 logrod Tartars, followed by Kurdluk swarthy Astrakhans 
 armed with gigantic bows, and arrows. They followed one 
 another so closely that the hot breath of those behind were 
 felt by those in front of them. 
 
 Who can tell or describe how many fell ere they reached 
 the trench filled with the bodies of captives. But they 
 reached it, crossed it, and began to climb the ramparts. It 
 seemed as if this night, bright with stars, was the night of 
 Judgment. Cannon balls which flew over the heads of the 
 nearer, ploughed into the farther ranks. Bombs, with hellish 
 hissing noises, described fiery arcs in the darkness, making 
 the darkest of night as light as day. The German and Polish 
 infantry with the dismounted dragoons of the prince at their 
 side poured fire and lead upon the faces and breasts of the 
 Cossacks. 
 
 The front ranks desired to retreat, but pushed from be- 
 hind, they could not. Thus they fell on the spot. Blood 
 spouted beneath the feet of those that advanced. The ram- 
 parts grew slippery; feet, hands, and breasts slid from them. 
 The men clambering up, slid off, climbed up again to be 
 enveloped in clouds of smoke, blackened with soot, stabbed, 
 beaten, but disregarding death and wounds. Here and there 
 hand to hand combats took place. Men could be seen as 
 though possessed and maddened with rage grinding their 
 teeth and with faces covered with blood. . . The sur- 
 vivors fought over the quivering bodies of the dead and 
 dying. Commands could no longer be heard, they were 
 drowned in the terrible general uproar that merged all sounds, 
 the thunder of guns, the groans of the wounded and the 
 hissing of the grenades. 
 
 The terrible struggle wherein no quarter was given lasted 
 for hours. About the rampart another was formed by corpses, 
 which hindered the assailants. The Sich Cossacks were al- 
 most butchered to a man, the Pereyaslav regiment lay in 
 rows about the rampart. The Karkovsk, Bratslav and Uman 
 divisions were decimated — still others pressed forward, 
 pushed from behind by the guard of the hetman, the Ru- 
 melian Turks and Tartars of Urumbey. N"ow confusion rose 
 amid the ranks of the assailants, for the Polish infantry, the 
 Germans, and the dragoons did not yield a step. Panting, 
 45 
 
7o5 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 covered with blood, streaming with sweat, half mad with 
 the smell of blood, they flung themselves one after another 
 tipon the enemy like raging wolves upon a flock of sheep. 
 At this moment KhmyelnitsM pressed forward with the 
 remnants of the first divisions and with his fresh forces of 
 Byalotserkiev; Tartars, Turks, and Circassians. The can- 
 nons ceased thundering, bombs whizzed no more, hand wea- 
 pons alone made themselves heard along the western ram- 
 part. Shouting commenced anew. At last even the firing 
 of muskets ceased. Darkness enveloped the combatants. No 
 eye could see what was taking place but something was 
 rolling along in the darkness like a gigantic body quivering 
 in convulsions, it was impossible to tell from the cries which 
 arose whether they were cries of triumph or despair. At 
 times even these ceased and then nothing could be heard 
 save one immense and horrible groan from all sides as if 
 it issued from beneath the earth and from its surface into 
 the air higher and higher as if the souls of the fallen were 
 flying aloft and groaning over the battle-field. 
 
 But these were but occasional pauses, after which the up- 
 roar and howls grew louder and the unearthly noise of com- 
 bat became fiercer and more terrible. 
 
 Again wa-s heard the crackle of muskets, for Major 
 Maklmitski with the rest of the infantry came up to the aid 
 of the exhausted regiments. In the rear ranks of the enemy 
 the trumpets sounded a retreat. 
 
 There was a pause in the combat, the Cossacks retreated 
 about a furlong from the ramparts and placed themselves 
 under the protection of their cannon; but within half an hour 
 Khmyelnitski drove them for the third time to the assault. 
 
 Now Prince Yeremy appeared on the ramparts. It was 
 easy to recognize him, for the pennon and bunchuk, insignia 
 of the hetman's rank, waved above his head, while before 
 and behind him were borne flaring torches, making a blood 
 red glare. Soon the enemj-'s cannon were belching at him, 
 but the artillery-men aimed badly and the balls flew high 
 above him, beyond the Gniezna, while he stood calmly and 
 surveyed the approaching masses. 
 
 The Cossacks slackened their pace as if dazzled by the sight 
 of him. A murmur like the quick whisper of the breeze 
 swept through their ranks. 
 
 "Yeremy! Yeremy!" 
 
 On the rampart in the glare of the blood-red torches the 
 
WITB FIRE AND 8W0BD. yof 
 
 prince appeared to them like a fabulous giant in folk lore. 
 
 A tremor ran through their weary limbs and their hands 
 made the sign of the cross. 
 
 . But Yeremy stood still. He waved his golden baton and at 
 once a swarm of death-dealing bombs hurtled 'through the 
 air and fell into the enemy's ranks. Like a wounded dragon 
 the dense mass writhed and a cry of terror was heard from 
 one end of the line to the other. 
 
 "Forward! Forward!" shouted the Cossack colonels. 
 
 The dark mass rushed at full speed towards the ramparts 
 beneath which was shelter from the bombs. But they had 
 not made half the distance when the prince, who was clearly 
 visible, turned towards the west and again waved his baton. 
 
 At the signal the cavalry moved forward from beside the 
 pond, out of the gap between it and the rampart, and im- 
 mediately poured out on the plain. By the light of the 
 bombs could be recognized the great banners of Skshetuski's 
 and Zatsvilikhovski's hussars, the dragoons of Kushel and 
 Volodiyovski and the Tartars of the prince under Rostvor- 
 ovski. They were followed by fresh regiments of Semenovs 
 and Wallachians under Bychov. Not only Khmyelnitski, but 
 even the last camp-follower of the Cossacks, recognized in a 
 flash that the audacious prince was going to hurl his entire 
 cavalry upon the enemy's flank. 
 
 At once trumpets in the lines of the assailants sounded a 
 retreat. "Front face to the cavalry! front face to the cav- 
 alry!" voices of command exclaimed in alarm. Simultane- 
 ously Khmyelnitski endeavored to change his front and to 
 place cavalry against cavalry. But it was too late. Ere he 
 was able to form his cavalry the squadrons of the prince 
 came rushing as if on wings shouting their battle cry "Strike! 
 Kill!" Banners rustled, plumes waved, and iron weapons 
 clashed. The hussars with their lances hurled themselves 
 upon the wall of the enemy like a hurricane and bore every- 
 thing before them. N"o human power, no command, no 
 leader, could hold the infantry against which the first attack 
 was directed. Wild panic seized the picked guard of the 
 hetman. The soldiers of Byalotserkiev threw away their 
 muskets, spears, swords, daggers, and scythes, and shielding 
 their heads with their hands, they rushed in blind terror 
 and roaring like beasts against the Tartars in the rear. The 
 Tartars however received them with a rain of bullets and 
 arrows, so they threw themselves upon the flank and ran 
 
7o8 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 along the wagon-train under the constant fire of the infantry 
 and the cannons of Vurtsel, leaving behind them such a 
 great cro« d of corpses that they lay one on top of the other. 
 
 Xow the wild Tukhay Bey together with Siibagazi and 
 Urum ilurza^ pressed like mad upon the advancing hussars. 
 He did not hope to break their power but simply wished to de- 
 lay them in order to win time for the Silistrian and EumeUan 
 Janissaries to form into squares and to protect the Byalot- 
 serkiev men from the jBrst panic. As if he were a commoai 
 Tartar and not a chief he rushed at the enemy in the van 
 of his troops and fought desperately, exposing himself to 
 dangers with the rest. The curved swords of the Xogais 
 clashed upon armor and breast plates, and the howl of the 
 warriors drowned all other sounds. But they could not hold 
 their ground. Forced from their position by the terrible 
 attacks of the iron horsemen against whom they were un- 
 accustomed to stand with open front, they were driven back 
 towards the Janissaries, thrown from their saddles, hacked 
 with long sabres, pierced through, beaten and crushed like 
 poisonous reptiles, they still defended themselves with such 
 furious valor that they did actually check the onset of the 
 hussars. Tukhay Bey raged like a destroying flame and 
 the Xogais kepf close at his side, like wolves following a 
 she-wolf. 
 
 Still they had to give way, leaving more and more corpses 
 behind them. "When thundering cries of '"Allah!"' announced 
 that the Janissaries had formed, Skshetuski threw himself 
 upon the raging Tukhay Bey and struck him upon the head 
 with his sword. But whether the knight had not yet re- 
 gained his strength after his illness, or whether the helmet 
 of Damascus steel withstood the blow, the blade bent on 
 Tukhay Bey's head and was shattered to fragments. 
 
 Tukhay Bey closed his eyes and fell into the arms of his 
 Nogais who escaped with their chief amid the general uproar 
 like clouds scudding before wind. The entire cavalrj- of the 
 prince was now fronting the Eumelian and Silistrian janis- 
 saries and the Mohammedan Serbians who together with the 
 Janissaries had formed an immense square and were slowly 
 retreating towards the wagon-train with their front to the 
 enemy, bristling with muskets, spears, javelins, battle-asies, 
 and swords. 
 
 The squadrons of heavy dragoon and the Semenovs of the 
 prince rushed like a whirlwind upon the square^ at their 
 
WITH FIRB AND SWORD. 709 
 
 head, with great noise and rattle of sabres rode Skshetuski's 
 hussars. He himself rushed on in the van and beside him 
 rode Longin upon his Livonian mare, his terrible broadsword 
 "Cowl-trencher" held aloft. 
 
 A red band of flame flew from one end of the quadrangle 
 to the other, bullets whistled about the ears of the riders, 
 here and there a man groaned or a horse fell, but still they 
 chased ahead. Now they neared the enemy and the Janis- 
 saries can distinctly hear the snorting and blown breath of 
 the horses. The square is formed more closely and a wall 
 of spears is inclined against the onrushing horses. As many 
 points as there were in that cloud, so many knights were 
 threatened. 
 
 Just then a gigantic hussar rushes with tremendous speed 
 upon the wall of the square; for a moment the forefeet of 
 the frantic horse rise in the air, then steed and rider fall 
 upon the crowded mass, overturning men, splintering spears, 
 and spreading destruction. 
 
 As an eagle swoops upon a flock of white partridges which 
 crowd together in terror and become easy prey, and are torn 
 to pieces with beak and talon, so Pan Longin Podbipyenta 
 swooped upon the enemy and raged with his "Cowl-trencher." 
 A cloudburst could not create greater havoc in a young and 
 dense forest than did he among the throng of Janissaries. 
 He was terrible. His form assumed superhuman proportions; 
 his horse seemed to transform itself into a dragon snorting 
 flame from its nostrils. Kisler-Bak, a gigantic aga, threw 
 himself upon him, but fell cut in two. In vain did the 
 strongest men attempt to check him with their spears, they 
 fell as if struck by lightning. He trampled upon them, 
 forced himself into the densest throng, and whenever he 
 wielded his mighty sword it seemed as if corn were falling 
 beneath the scythe. The crowd thinned out about him; one 
 could hear yells, groans, the thunder of blows, the crash of 
 steel upon the helmets and the snorting of the hellish mare. 
 
 "A Div! A Div!"^ shouted terrified voices. 
 
 At this moment the iron mass of hussars with Skshetuski 
 at its head rushed through the breach made by the Lithu- 
 anian knight, the walls of the square burst like those of a 
 falling house; the throngs of Janissaries took to flight in 
 every direction. 
 
 It was just in the nick of time, for the Nogais under Su- 
 
 1 Devil. 
 
7 10 WtTB VIRE AND SVfORD. 
 
 bagazi were now returning to the battle like bloodthirsty 
 wolves, and on the other side Khmyelnitski had rallied the 
 Byalotserkiev men and was hurrying to the aid of the janis- 
 saries; but now there was general confusion. Cossacks, Tar- 
 tars, Mussulmen, Janissaries, without ofEering the slightest 
 resistance, fled in -n-ild terror towards the wagon-train. The 
 cavalry pursued them, hewing down everything in the way. 
 Those who had not fallen in the first assault perished now. 
 The pursuit was so hot that the squadrons rushed ahead of 
 the rear ranks of the fugitives and their hands grew weary 
 from cutting and slashing. The flying men threw away their 
 weapons, flags, caps, and even their coats. The white caps 
 of the janissaries covered the field like snowflakes. The 
 entire picked force of Khmyelnitski's infantry, the cavalry 
 and artillery, as well as the Tartar and Turkish auxiliary 
 forces formed one disorderly mass, senseless, wild, and blind 
 with fright. Entire companies fled before single officers. 
 The hussars having scattered the infantry and cavalry, had 
 done their work; now the dragoons and light squadrons 
 rushed in, and Volodiyovski and Kushel did incredible mis- 
 chief. The battle field became a great sea of blood which 
 splashed like water beneath the hoofs of the horses and be- 
 sprinkled the armor and faces of the knights. 
 
 The fleeing crowds only drew breath when they reached 
 the centre of the wagon-train and the trumpets of the prince's 
 cavalry sounded a retreat. 
 
 The knights returned singing and shouting in triumph, 
 and counting on their way with bloody swords the corpses 
 of the enemy. But who could estimate at a glance the extent 
 of the defeat? Who could count all that had perished when 
 in the trench alone the bodies were heaped up to the height 
 of a man? The soldiers were almost overcome by the smell 
 of blood and sweat. Fortunately quite a strong breeze blew 
 from the lakes and carried the odors to the enemy's tents. 
 
 Thus ended the first encounter between the terrible Yere- 
 my and Khmyelnitski. 
 
 But the end of the storm was not yet, for while Vishny- 
 ovyetski repulsed the attacks directed against the right wing 
 of the camp, Burlay had almost made himself master of the 
 entrenchments. He had surorunded the town and castle 
 with his warriors from the region beyond the Dnieper and 
 had pushed on to the eastern lake and fiercely attacked Fir- 
 ley's quarters. The Hungarian infantry division stationed 
 
WITH FIBE AND SWORD. yn 
 
 there were unable to withstand the attack, for the entrench- 
 ments at the pond were not yet finished; the first company 
 fled from the banner and was soon followed by the entire 
 regiment. Burlay rode at full speed to the centre, followed 
 by his men like an irresistible torrent. The sho.uts of vic- 
 tory were heard at the opposite end of the camp. The Cos- 
 sacks who pursued the fleeing Hungarians, crushed a small 
 division of cavalry, took several cannon, and had almost 
 reached the quarters of the Castellan of Belsk when fshi- 
 yenski at the head of several German companies rushed to 
 the rescue. Striking down the fiag-bearer with a single 
 thrust he seized the flag and threw himself with it upon the 
 enemy. The Germans closed with the Cossacks and a terrible 
 hand-to-hand combat ensued, in which on one side fought 
 with fury the crushing numbers of Burlay's forces and on 
 the other the courage of the old lions of the Thirty Years 
 War. In vain did Burlay like a wounded boar charge into 
 the densest ranks of the combatants. Neither the scorn of 
 death nor the fierceness with which the Cossacks fought, 
 could check the Germans, who pressed upon the Zaporojians 
 with such force that they swept them from their places, 
 scattered them, and after a half-hour's struggle, drove them 
 beyond the entrenchments. 
 
 Pshiyemski, covered with blood, planted the flag upon the 
 half-finished rampart. 
 
 Burlay was now placed in a terrible position. He was 
 forced to retreat by the same road on which he had come; 
 and since Prince Yeremy had already crushed those who 
 had attacked the right wing, he could now with great ease 
 cut off the retreat of Burlay's division. And though Myro- 
 zovitski at the head of the Korsun Cossack cavalry came to 
 his aid, at the same moment Konyetspolski's hussars sup- 
 ported by those of Skshetuski, returning from the attack 
 upon the Janissaries, fell upon Burlay who had been retreat- 
 ing in order. 
 
 One shock scattered Burlay's forces in all directions, and a 
 terrible slaughter ensued. Cut off from retreat to the wagon- 
 train, death alone remained for the Cossacks. Some without 
 asking for quarter, defended thmselves singly or in small 
 groups with the fury of despair. Others in vain stretched 
 imploring hands towards the cavalry that was thundering 
 like a tempest over the field. Then began pursuit and a 
 search for enemies who had hidden themselves in holes or 
 
712 
 
 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 in uneven places in the ground. In order to light the battle- 
 field, burning barrels of tar were rolled down from the en- 
 trenchments, resembling blazing meteors with fiery tails, as 
 they fell. By their red light the remainder of the Trans- 
 Dnieper horde were destroyed. Subagazi who had on that 
 day performed marvels of valor, flew to the aid, but the 
 valiant Marek Sobieski, the chief of Krasnostavsk, stopped 
 him as a lion stops a wild bujBfalo. Burlay saw now that all 
 was lost. But he loved his Cossack honor more than life and 
 did not attempt to escape. Others fled in the darkness, hid 
 in clefts, crept away between the feet of horses; he alone 
 still sought the enemy. He struck down Pan Dombka, Pan 
 Eusietski and the young hero Pan Aksak, who had won un- 
 djdng fame at Konstantinov. Then his sword cleft Pan 
 Savitski and struck down two winged hussars together; 
 finally, like a flame of fire, he rushed towards a huge noble- 
 man whom he had noticed rushing over the battle-field bel- 
 lowing like a bull. 
 
 Zagloba, for it was he, bellowed still louder from terror and 
 spurred his horse to flight. His few remaining locks stood 
 up like oaks with fright, but he did not lose his presence of 
 mind; on the contrary he was meditating stratagems which 
 flashed like lightning through his mind. He spurred onwards 
 towards a dense throng of horsemen and cried out "Gentle- 
 men, whoever believes in God!" . Then he spurred 
 like a tempest towards the thick mass of cavalry. But Bur- 
 lay rushed at him from one side to head him off. Zagloba 
 closed his eyes and said to himself: "I shall perish now, 1 
 and my fleas." He heard the snorting of the horse behind 
 him, saw that no one was coming to his help, that escape 
 was impossible, and that no hand but his own could save him 
 from Burlay. 
 
 In this moment of agony his terror suddenly turned into 
 rage, he bellowed more fearfully than a wild aurochs, and 
 wheeling his horse he turned against his pursuer. 
 
 "I am Zagloba!"" he cried, flourishing his sword in the air. 
 
 Just then a fresh lot of tar-barrels were rolled from the 
 ramparts. In the bright gleam Burlay gazed upon Zagloba 
 and was astounded. Not at hearing his name, however, for 
 that he had never heard before, but that he recognized him 
 as the man whom he had entertained in Yampol as Bohun's 
 friend. 
 
 But that unfortunate start of surprise was the ruin of the 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 713 
 
 brave chief of the Zaporojians, for ere he could collect him- 
 self, Zagloba landed such a blow upon his temple that he 
 fell lifeless to the earth. 
 
 This happened in view of the entire army. Shouts of joy 
 from the hussars were answered by shouts of terror from 
 the Cossacks, who when they beheld the death of this old lion 
 of the Black Sea, completely lost spirit and attempted no 
 further resistance. Those whom Subagazi could not rescue 
 perished to the last man, for no prisoners were taken on that 
 terrible night. Subagazi fled towards the wagon-train pur- 
 sued by the Starosta of Krasnostavsk and the light cavalry. 
 The attack all along the line of entrenchments was repulsed. 
 N opposition was met on the way and only about the wagon- 
 train did the pursuing cavalry find work to do. 
 
 Shouts of triumph and joy resounded over the entire camp 
 of the besieged, and mighty cries filled the air and ascended 
 towards heaven. The blood-spattered, perspiring, dusty, 
 powder-blackened, soldiers stood leaning upon their weapons, 
 their faces were lowering, their brows still frowning, their 
 eyes still flashing, panting, but ready to fight again if neces- 
 sary. Slowly the cavalry also returned from its bloody har- 
 vest at the train. Then the prince himself appeared upon 
 the battle-field and with him the commanders, the royal 
 standard bearer Marek, Sobieski and Pshiyemski. The brill- 
 iant procession moved slowly along the trenches. 
 
 "Long live Yeremy!' cried the army, "long live our father!" 
 
 The prince bowed with uncovered head and waved his 
 field-marshal's baton on every side. 
 
 "I thank you, gentlemen, I thank you!" he exclaimed in 
 his clear, bell-like voice. 
 
 Then he turned to Pan Pshiyemski: 
 
 "This trench is too big," said he. 
 
 Pshiyemski nodded his head in sign of affirmation. 
 / Thus the victorious leaders rode along the entire line from 
 the eastern to the western lake, inspecting the battle-field 
 and the damages done to the ramparts by the enemy. 
 
 Behind the prince's retinue enthusiastic soldiers bore Za- 
 globa on their shoulders to the camp as the hero of the day. 
 
 Twenty strong arms lifted the portly figure of the warrior 
 on high; while he, greatly excited, red, perspiring and waving 
 his arms lest he should lose his balance, cried out with all 
 his force: 
 
 "Ha! I peppered him, purposely I feigned flight to draw 
 
»J4 With fire axd sword. 
 
 him on. This dog-brother will bark at us no more. Gentle- 
 men, I had to give an example to the younger men. . . . 
 For God's sake be careful or 30U \nll let me fall, hold me 
 tight, do you hear? . . . believe me, I had my hands full 
 with him. All sorts of rascals fought with noblemen to-day, 
 but they got their deserts. ... Be careful! let me down! 
 The Devil! ..." 
 
 "Long life to him! long life to him!" shouted the nobles. 
 
 "Take him to the prince," cried others. 
 
 ''Long Life to him! Long life to him!" 
 
 Meantime the Zaporojian hetman rushed into his camp 
 roaring like a wounded beast, tore his coat from his breast 
 and tore his own face. The chiefs who had escaped from 
 the battle surrounded him in gloomy silence, and spoke no 
 word of consolation. He was almost bereft of his senses; he 
 foamed at the mouth and tore his hair with both hands. 
 
 "Where are my regiments, my warriors?" he repeated in 
 a hoarse voice. "What will the Khan say, what will Tukhay 
 Bey? Give me up to Yeremy, let him impale me on the 
 stake." 
 
 The chiefs maintained silence. 
 
 "AVhy did the soothsayers predict victory?" roared the 
 hetman, "off with their heads. Why did they say that I should 
 take Yeremj' captive?"' 
 
 Heretofore when the roaring of this Uon had terrorized the 
 entire camp, the captains had preserved a respectful silence; 
 but now that he was defeated, trampled upon, and forsaken 
 by fortune, his phght made the officers insolent. 
 
 "You can never conquer Yeremy," muttered Stepka. 
 
 "You are the cause of your own ruin and of ours," added 
 Mrozovitski. 
 
 The hetman rushed at him like a tiger. 
 
 "And who was the conqueror at Zolta Woda, who at Kor- 
 sum, and at Pilavyets?" 
 
 "You," answered Voromchenko harshly, 'Tjut Vishnyovy- 
 etski was not there." 
 
 Khmyelnitski began to tear his hair. 
 
 "I promised the Khan that he should sleep in the castle 
 to-night," howled he, in despair. 
 
 Then Kulak spoke: "AMiat you have promised the Khan 
 concerns your own head. Keep it. Beware lest you lose it. 
 . . . But do not drive us again to the assault; do not de- 
 iBtroy soldiers of God. Put up ramparts against the Poles, 
 trenches before the cannon, or woe unto you." 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. j^e 
 
 "Woe unto you!" repeated gloomy voices. 
 
 "Woe unto you," answered Khmyelnitski. 
 
 Thus they murmured and rumbled like thunder clouds. 
 At length Khmyelnitski staggered and fell upon a divan 
 covered with sheepskins in a corner of the tent. The cap- 
 tains surrounded him with gloomy brows and in deep silence. 
 At length the hetman caled out hoarsely: "Gorzalka!" 
 
 "You shall not drink," shouted Vyhovski, "the Khan will 
 send for you." 
 
 The Khan was about a mile distant from the battle-field 
 and knew nothing of what had transpired. The night was 
 still and warm, and he sat by his tent among the agas and 
 servants eating dates from a silver dish, and awaiting news. 
 At time.s he gazed up at the starlit sky, and murmured 
 "Mohammed Eassul Allah!" (Mohammed the messenger of 
 God.) 
 
 At this moment Subagazi came riding up at full speed on 
 a foaming horse, breathless and covered with blood; leaping 
 from his saddle, he hurried up to the Khan and bowed low. 
 
 "Speak," said the Khan with a mouthful of dates. 
 
 The words burned like flames in the mouth of Subagazi 
 but he dared not speak without first repeating the customary 
 titles. He began therefore, making constant obeisances, to 
 speak in the following manner: 
 
 "Almighty Khan of all the hordes. Grandson of Moham- 
 med, Absolute Sovereign, All-wise Monarch, Fortunate Lord, 
 Lord of the tree that gives shade from sunrise to sunset. 
 Lord of the blooming tree ..." 
 
 The Khan waved his hand to check the flow of words. He 
 noticed that there was blood on the face of Subagazi ani that 
 pain and despair were in his eyes. He spat the half-chewed 
 dates into his hand and gave them to one of his mullahs, who 
 accepted them as a mark of extraordinary honor, and began 
 to eat them. Then the Khan said: 
 
 "Speak quickly Subagazi has the camp of the infidels been 
 taken'" 
 
 "God has not granted it." 
 
 "The Poles?" 
 
 "Are victors." 
 
 "Khmyelnitski?" 
 
 "Defeated." 
 
 "And Tukhay Bey?" 
 
 "Wounded." 
 
-l5 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "There is but one God," said the Khan, "how many true 
 believers have gone to Paradise?" 
 
 Subagazi raised his eyes and pointed with his blood-stained 
 hand to the sky. "As many as there are lights on Allah's 
 Heaven," he answered solemnly. 
 
 The Khan's fat face grew purple, he almost burst with 
 rage. 
 
 "Where is that dog," said he, "who promised me that 1 
 sheuld sleep to-night in the castle? Where is that venomous 
 serpent whom God will crush beneath my feet? Let him 
 come here and give an account of the splendid promises he 
 made." 
 
 Several murzas at once departed to find Khmyelnitski. 
 By degrees the Khan grew calmer and finally he said: 
 
 "There is but one God." 
 
 Then he turned to Subagazi. 
 
 "Subagazi," said he, "there is blood upon your face." 
 
 "It is the blood of unbelievers," replied the warrior. 
 
 "Tell how you have shed it, rejoice our ears by telling of 
 the bravery of the faithful." 
 
 Then Subagazi began to describe the battle in detail, prais- 
 ing especially the bravery of Tukhay Bey, of Galgi and Xur- 
 ed-Din. Xor did he fail to mention Khmyelnitski likewise, 
 praising him as he did the others, and ascribing the disaster 
 only to the will of God and to the fury of the infidels. One 
 circumstance in the narrative impressed itself upon the Khan, 
 and that was that at the beginning of the battle no shots 
 were fired upon the Tartars, and that the Prince's cavalry 
 had only charged upon them when the Tartars stood directly 
 in their way. 
 
 "Allah! they did not want to fight with me," said the 
 Kian, "but now it is too late. . . " 
 
 And this indeed was the case. Prince Yeremy at the be- 
 ginning of the battle had forbidden his soldiers to fire upon 
 the Tartars, in order to instill in them that negotiations were 
 going on with the Khan and that his hordes were standing 
 beside the rebels only for the sake of appearances. Later, 
 circumstances had forced an encounter with the Tartars. 
 
 The Khan nodded his head and deliberated within himself 
 whether it would not be better to turn his arms against 
 Khmyelnitski, but suddenly the hetman stood before him. 
 
 Khmyelnitski was now calm, and approached the EHian 
 with head held high and a bold look. Craft and daring were 
 expressed in his face. 
 
WITH PI BE Ai/D SWORD. jij 
 
 "Approach, you traitor!" said the Khan. 
 
 "The hetman of the Cossacks approaches you, and no 
 traitor, but your faithful ally to whom you pledged your aid 
 under any circumstances," said Khmyelnitski. 
 
 "Go, pass the night in the castle, drag the Poles from 
 the trenches by their hair as you promised." 
 
 "Great Khan of all the hordes," answered Khmyelnitski, 
 in a solemn voice, "you are mighty, and except the Sultan, 
 the mightiest on earth; you are wise and powerful, but can 
 you shoot an arrow up to the stars, or fathom the depth of 
 the sea?" 
 
 The Khan gazed at him in astonishment. 
 
 "You cannot," continued Khmyelnitski in a voice growing 
 in volume, "and so I could not fathom the unfathomable 
 pride and daring of Yeremy. How could I divine that your 
 mere name would not terrify him into subjection, that the 
 sight of you would not humble him to submissiveness, and 
 that he would dare to raise his insolent hand against you, 
 and to shed the blood of your warriors, and to insult you, 
 mighty menarch, as well as the least of your murzas? Had 
 I ventured to harbor such a thought I should have dishonored 
 you whom I love and reverence." 
 
 "Allah!" said the Khan, more and more astonished. 
 
 "But this much I wish to tell you," continued Khmyel- 
 nitski, with increasing assurance in voice and manner, "you 
 are great and mighty, from the east to the west nations and 
 monarchs do homage to you and call you 'the Lion,' Yere- 
 my alone does not bow his head to the dust before your beard. 
 If you therefore do not destroy him, if you do not bend his 
 neck and ride on his back, where is your glory and your 
 honor? Men will say that a simply Polish prince has dis- 
 honored the Tsar of the Crimea and has escaped punishment 
 — and that he is greater and mightier than you." 
 
 A profound silence followed; the chiefs and agas looked 
 upon the face of the Khan as upon the sun and held their 
 breath, the latter had his eyes closed and was lost in thought. 
 
 Khmyelnitski leaned upon his baton and waited con- 
 fidently. 
 
 "You have said it," exclaimed the Khan at last. "I will 
 humble Yeremy and will ride on his back so that no one 
 from the east to the west can say that an infidel dog has dis- 
 graced me." 
 
 "God is great!" came as one voice from the murzas. 
 
yi8 WITH FIRE aXD sword. 
 
 Khmyelnitski's eyes shone with joy. With one stroke he 
 had warded off the destruction hanging over his head, and 
 from a dobtful ally he had formed one who could be im- 
 plicitly trusted. In case of emergency the lion knew how to 
 transform itself into a serpent. 
 
 Both camps until late at night were active as a swarm of 
 bees, while on the battle-field the torn and mangled warriors 
 slept the sleep that knows no waking. The moon rose and 
 started on her course over the immense graveyard, and was 
 reflected in the pools of congealed blood, revealing at every 
 moment new heaps of slain, looked into their open, glassy 
 eyes, lighted their bluish faces, the fragments of shattered 
 weapons, and the corpses of horses — ^her rays grew fainter 
 as if paling at the sight. Here and there ominous groups 
 appeared upon the field, these were servants and camp-fol- 
 lowers who had come to rob the slain, as Jackals steal after 
 lions. . . . Superstitious fear drove them finally from the 
 field. A dread mystery hung about that field strewn with 
 corpses, about the silence and stillness of those motionless 
 figures not long before human beings, and in the still peace- 
 fullness with which the dead Poles, Turks, Tartars, and Cos- 
 sacks lay side by side. At times the wind rustled in the bushes 
 that grew in spots over the field and it seemed to the sentinels 
 as if this rustle was caused by the souls of the fallen which 
 were circling above their corpses. It was even rumored that 
 when the clock struck the midnight hour from Zbaraj, on a 
 sudden over the whole field there were sounds as if great 
 flocks of birds were rising in the air. Wailing voices, deep 
 sighs, and hollow groans were also heard, making the hair 
 stand up on the head. Those who were yet to perish in this 
 struggle and whose ears were more sensitive to supernatural 
 voices, distinctly heard the heavenward-rising souls of the 
 Poles making supplications "Before Thine eyes, Lord! we 
 lay down our sins," while the souls of the Cossacks groaned 
 "Christ, Christ, be merciful." For those that had fallen in 
 this fratricidal war could not hasten at once to the eternal 
 life. It was their fate to remain in the outer darkness and 
 to hover in the wind over this vale of tears, to weep and 
 lament by night until they should obtain of God forgiveness 
 for their guilt and obtain at last peace and pardon for their 
 sins at the feet of Christ. 
 
 But in those days men hardened their hearts and no Angel 
 of Peace flew over the battle-field. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 On the following morning ere the sun had flashed its golden 
 rays over the sky, new entrenchments surrounded the Polish 
 camp. The former had covered too much space; it was diffi- 
 cult to defend them and to render mutual assistance. The 
 prince and Pan Pshiyemski had decided therefore to enclose 
 the troops within narrower entrenchments. All night long 
 they had worked steadily, the hussars as well as the other 
 divisions; it was not until three o'clock in the morning that 
 sleep clos,.d the eyes of the tired knights, and all except the 
 sentries slept; for the enemy also was working all through 
 the night and attempted to make no assault after yesterday's 
 defeat. It was not expected that an attack would be made 
 upon this day. 
 
 Skshetuski, Pan Longin and Zagloba sat in their tent 
 drinking beer in small mugs thickened with crumbs of cheese, 
 and diverted themselves in talking over the battle with that 
 satisfaction with which every soldier talks over a recent 
 victory. 
 
 "I am in the habit of going tO' sleep at milking-time in 
 the evening and of rising when they are milking in the 
 morning, the way the ancients did," said Zagloba, "but in 
 war time that would not do; sleep when you have a chance 
 and rise when you are awakened. It angers me to think that 
 we are being disturbed on account of such a mob of rascals, 
 but it can't be helped, in such times as these. Anyhow we 
 paid them out yesterday, if we give them a couple more such 
 receptions they will take care not to wake us." 
 
 "Do you know how many of our men have fallen?" asked 
 Longin. 
 
 "0, not many, and, as is always the case, more fall of the 
 assailants than of the besieged. You don't understand such 
 matters as well as I do, because you have not been in so 
 many wars. But we old veterans don't have to count the dead, 
 we can estimate by watching the course of the battle." 
 
 "I shall attempt to learn all this from you gentlemen," 
 said Longin mildly. 
 
 719 
 
720 WITH FIRE AyO SWORD. 
 
 "Certainly you can if you have sufficient wit, but I doubt 
 this fact." 
 
 "Oh, let him alone," interrupted Skshetuski. "Longin has 
 seen war before, and God grant that our best knights per- 
 form such deeds as his of yesterday."" 
 
 "I did as well as I could,"" said the Lithuanian, "but not 
 as much as I wanted to." 
 
 "You did pretty well," said Zagloba, assuming a patron- 
 izing air, "and that others surpassed you (here he twisted 
 his moustaches) is not your fault." 
 
 The Lithuanian listened with downcast eyes and sighed, 
 thinking of his ancestor Stoveyko and the three heads. 
 
 At that moment the curtain of the tent was raised and 
 Pan Michael entered as lively and cheerful as a goldfinch on 
 a bright morning. 
 
 "Well, we are all here," exclaimed Zagloba, ''let him have 
 some beer." 
 
 The little knight grasped the hands of his three com- 
 rades, and said: "You should see how many balls are lying 
 about in the square; it surpasses imagination, you can"t step 
 without stumbling." 
 
 "I have seen them too," said Zagloba. "for after rising I 
 took a short stroll about the camp. All the hens of the 
 entire district of Lemberg could not lay so many eggs in two 
 years. Ah! if they were only eggs. wouldn"t we have a 
 high time eating omelets. You must know, gentlemen, that 
 I would not exchange omelets for the greatest delicacy. I 
 have a soldier's disposition, so have you. I enjoy something 
 good, but there must be plentj' of it; for this reason I am 
 more valiant in battle than the lazy j'ouths of to-day who 
 cannot retain a mouthful in their stomachs."' 
 
 "Well, you showed us yesterday, -nith Burlay, what you 
 are capable oi" said the little knight. "To cut Burlay down 
 in the way you did it, ho, ho; I did not expect it of you. 
 Why, he was one of the bravest and most famous knights 
 throughout the Ukraine and Turkey.' 
 
 "Wliat! Ha!" said Zagloba proudly, "that was not my first 
 deed nor my greatest. Pan Michael. I see we are all search- 
 ing in a busliel of poppy-seed, but four of ns have found 
 each other at the bottom. Such another four you could not 
 find in the whole Commcmwealth. By God! with you gentle- 
 men, and our prmce at the head, we could make our way on 
 foot to Stambul. Now let me tell you: Pan Skshetuski killed 
 Burdabut, and yesterday Tukhay Bey." 
 
W'lTB FIRE AND SWORD. 721 
 
 "Tukhay Bey is not dead," interrupted Skshetuski, "I felt 
 how the blade rebounded, then at once we were separated." 
 
 "All the same," said Zagloba, "don't interrupt me. Pan' 
 Yan. Pan Michael cut down Bohun at Warsaw, as we have 
 said." 
 
 "Better not mention that," said the Lithuanian. 
 
 "What is said is said," replied Zagloba, "though I should 
 prefer myself to forget it. But let me proceed. Well, Pan 
 Podbipyenta from Myshykishld did up Pulyan, and I, Bur- 
 lay. 1 cannot conceal from you, gentlemen, however, that 
 I would give all those fellows for one Burlay, and that 
 I had the greatest work in settling him. That man was a 
 devil, not a Cossack. If I had legitimate sons I would leave 
 them an illustrious name. I would like to know what his 
 Majesty the King and the Diet will say, and how they will 
 reward us, who live more on sulphur and brimstone than on 
 anything else." 
 
 "There was a hero who was greater than any of us," said 
 Pan Longin, "but his name nobody knows or remembers." 
 
 "I should like to know who he may be,' said Zagloba, 
 offended, "he must have lived in ancient times." 
 
 "No, not in ancient times," said the Lithuanian, "it was 
 that little brother who at Tshetstyana upset King Gustavus 
 Adolphus and his horse and captured him." 
 
 "I heard that this was at Putsek," interrupted Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 "The king, however, tore himself away and fled," said 
 Skshetuski. 
 
 "So it was. I can tell you something about it,' said Za- 
 globa, blinking his eye, "for I was then serving under the 
 noble Konyetspolski, father of the royal standard bearer, I 
 know something-about it. Modesty prevents me from making 
 known the name of the hero, therefore nobody knows it. 
 Believe me, Gustavus Adolphus was a great warrior, as great 
 as Konyetspolski, but my encounter with Burlay was a much 
 more difficult task, let me tell you." 
 
 "Then as I understand it, it was you who overthrew Gus- 
 tavus Adolphus," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Why, have I boasted about it, Pan Michael? Let it re- 
 main forgotten. To-day I can boast of a deed which will 
 long be remembered. This beer rumbles terribly in the 
 stomach, and the more cheese there is in it the more it 
 rumbles; for my part I prefer wine, though I thank God for 
 
 46 
 
722 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 what we have. It may be that we shall lack even this. The 
 priest Jabkovski tells me that provisions are scarce, and that 
 worries him a good deal for he has a stomach as big as a 
 barn. He is a huge Bernardine; I have become very fond of 
 him; the blood of a soldier rather than a priest flows in his 
 veins. The man whom he strikes in the snout must order 
 his coffin at once.'' 
 
 "I have not told you, gentlemen, yet," remarked the little 
 knight, "how well chaplain Yaskolski behaved last night. 
 He posted himself in the corner of the tower on the right side 
 of the castle and watched the fight. You must know that he 
 is an excellent shot. He remarked to Jabkovski: 'I won't 
 shoot at the Cossacks, for they at any rate are Christians, 
 although they displease God; but Tartars,' said he, 'I abhor.' 
 Then he began to shoot, and I understand that he knocked 
 over a score and a half of them during the battle." 
 
 "I would that all the clergy were like him," sighed Za- 
 globa, "but our Mukhovietski merely folds his hands and 
 weeps that so much Christian blood is being shed." 
 
 "Never mind," said Skshetuski, earnestly, "Mukhovietski 
 is a holy friar; and the best proof of this is, that although he 
 is younger than the two others, they nevertheless humble 
 themselves before him." 
 
 "Not only do I not deny his holiness," said Zagloba, "I 
 even believe that he could convert the Khan himself. Oh! 
 gentlemen, his Majesty the Khan must be in such a rage 
 that the lice upon him are turning summersaults from fright. 
 If he goes to negotiations, I shall also go with the commis- 
 sioners. We are old friends; once upon a time he used to 
 be very fond of me. Maybe he still remembers me." 
 
 "No doubt that Yanitski will be selected to conduct the 
 negotiations, because he speaks the Tartar language as well 
 as the Polish," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "And so do I. The murzas and myself know each other 
 as white-streaked horses. When I was in the Crimea they 
 wanted to give their daughters to me in order to have a beau- 
 tiful progeny, and as I was young and had made no vow of 
 chastity, like his grace. Pan Podbipyenta of MyshyMshki I 
 had some rousing times." 
 
 "That is offensive to the ear," said Longin bashfully. 
 
 "And you always repeat the same thing like a starling, it 
 is apparent that the Beet-soup-eaters are not conversant with 
 human speech," 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ya^ 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by a murnaur of voices 
 outside the tent. The knights went out to see what was the 
 matter. A number of soldiers stood on the entrenchments 
 looking at the region about, which had materially changed 
 during the night and was still changing. The Cossacks in- 
 deed had not been idle since the last assault. They had 
 made breastworks and placed cannon behind them, longer 
 and more far reaching than any to be found in the Polish 
 camp, and had begun to throw up winding and crosswise en- 
 trenchments and approaches. From a distance these heaps 
 of earth looked like thousands of gigantic molehills, the en- 
 tire slope of the plain was covered with them, the freshly 
 turned up earth showed everywhere in dark spots amid the 
 green of the grass, and everywhere men were toiling at the 
 earthworks. On the front ramparts glittered the red caps 
 of the Cossacks. 
 
 The prince, accompanied by the Starosta of Krasnostavsk 
 and Pan Pshiyemski stood upon the intrenchments. A little 
 lower down the Castellan of Belsk surveyed through a field- 
 glass the Cossack works, and said to the royal cup-bearer: 
 
 "The enemy is beginning a regular siege, I see that we 
 shall have to abandon the defense within the intrenchments 
 and take refuge in the castle." 
 
 Prince Yeremy overheard these words and bending towards 
 the castellan said: "God forbid! for we should be going 
 voluntarily into a trap. Here we must live or die." 
 
 "That's my opinion too, even though I should have to 
 kill a Burlay every day," interposed Zagloba, "I protest in 
 the name of the entire army against the opinion of the Cas- 
 tellan of Belsk." 
 
 "This is not your business," said the prince. 
 
 "Keep quiet," whispered Volodiyovski, pulling the noble- 
 man's coat sleeve. 
 
 "We will dig them out of their hiding-places like moles," 
 said Zagloba, "and I beg your Highness to let me take the 
 first sally; they know me now well enough, but they shall 
 know more." 
 
 "A sally," said the prince, contracting his forehead, "better 
 wait . . . until the nights are dark." . . . 
 
 Then turning to the Starosta of Krasnostavsk, to Pan 
 Pshiyenski, and the commanders, he said: 
 
 "I request you, gentlemen, to come to a conference." And 
 descending from the ramparts he was followed by all the 
 superior officers. 
 
724 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! what are you doing?" said Volodi- 
 yovski to Zagloba. "What do you mean? Don't you know 
 that it is against military discipline to interrupt the conver- 
 sation of your superior officers? The prince is a mild man, 
 but in war time he will stand no joking." 
 
 "That is nothing. Pan Michael," said Zagloba, "the old Pan 
 KonyetspolsM was as fierce as a lion, yet he highly valued 
 my advice, and may the wolves eat me if it was not just for 
 that reason that he twice defeated Gustavus Adolphus. I 
 know how to talk with these gentlemen, didn't you notice how 
 the prince gave way when I advised a sally? If God grants us 
 a victory, who will get the credit then — ^what — ^you?" 
 
 At that moment Zatsvilikhovski approached. 
 
 "Look!" said he, "they are rooting, rooting, like swine," 
 pointing to the field. 
 
 "I would they were swine," answered Zagloba, "we would 
 have cheap sausages then. But their carcasses are not fit even 
 for dogs. In Pan Firley's quarters the soldiers have had to 
 dig a well, you can't see any water in the eastern pond now 
 on account of the numbers of bodies. At about dawn the 
 gall-bladders of the curs burst and they rose to the surface. 
 We shall not be able to eat fish any more on Friday, because 
 they have fed upon flesh." 
 
 "True," said Zatsvilikhovski, 'Tjut I have never seen so 
 many corpses except perhaps at Khotsim, when the janis- 
 saries stormed our camp." 
 
 "You will see more of them yet, I tell you." 
 
 "I think that they will begin to attack us this evening, or 
 before the evening." 
 
 "But I say that they will let us alone until to-morrow." 
 
 Zagloba had scarcely finished when white smoke puffed up 
 from the enemy's earthworks, and balls began to fly over the 
 intrenchments. 
 
 "There you are!" exclaimed Zatsvilikhovski. 
 
 "Bah! they know nothing of the art of war," said Zagloba. 
 
 Old Zatsvilikhovski was right. Khmyelnitski had begun a 
 regular siege; he had closed all ways and exits, removed the 
 pasture, had thrown up entrenchments and approaches, had 
 dug winding ditches about the camp, but he did not neglect 
 to make assaults, he annoyed and frightened them. He had 
 decided to give the besieged no rest, to tire them out, and to 
 harass them until the weapons should drop from their weary 
 hands. Therefore in the evening he again attacked Vish- 
 
WITU FIRE AND 8W0BD. 725 
 
 nyovyetski's quarters, but with no better result than on the 
 previous day, especially as his soldiers did not display the 
 same zeal. On the following day the firing did not stop for a 
 moment. The winding ditches were so near to the camp that 
 musketry-fire reached the ramparts; the earthworks smoked 
 like miniature volcanoes from morning till night. It was not 
 a general battle but an incessant bombardment. The be- 
 sieged made occasional sorties, when swords, flails, lances 
 and scythes met in the conflict, but whenever some of the 
 Cossacks were swept away, others immediately took their 
 places. The besieged soldiers had no rest all day long, and 
 when the wished-f or sunset came> a general assault was begun, 
 a sally was out of the question. 
 
 On the night of July 16th, two brave colonels, Hladk and 
 Nebada, attacked the prince's quarters and were terribly de- 
 feated. Three thousand of the most active Cossacks were left 
 upon the field, the rest, pursued by the Starosta of Krasnos- 
 tavsk, fled to their wagon-train, throwing away their arms 
 and powder-horns. The same ill fate befell Fedeorenko, who, 
 under cover of a dense fog, in the early morning, almost suc- 
 ceeded in capturing the town. Pan Korf, at the head of the 
 Germans, repulsed him, and the Chief of Krasnostavsk and 
 the standard bearer of Konyetspolski almost annihilated the 
 attacking party as they fled. 
 
 But this was nothing in comparison to the frightful assault 
 which, on July 19th, was made upon the intrenchments. The 
 night previous the Cossacks had heaped up high embank- 
 ments right opposite the quarters of Vishnyovyetski and from 
 these heavy cannons belched out an incessant fire. At the 
 close of day, when the first stars were twinkling in the sky, 
 thousands upon thousands pushed forward to the assault. 
 A number of awful-looking machines, resembling towers, 
 appeared in the distance and slowly approached the ramparts. 
 At the sides of these were things that looked like outstretched 
 wings, these were bridges to be thrown over the intrench- 
 ments. The tops of the towers were enveloped in smoke 
 from the discharges from small cannon and muskets. They 
 rolled on amid the swarm of heads like giganl^ic commanders, 
 now blazing with the fire of guns, now disapp^ring in smoke 
 and darkness. The soldiers pointed them ouib to each other 
 from the distance, whispering: 
 
 "Those are Tartar moving towers. Khmyelnitski wants to 
 grind us in those wind mills. See how they roll with a noise 
 like thunder." 
 
-26 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Fire at them with cannon!" shouted others. 
 
 The prince's artillerymen fired ball after ball, grenade after 
 grenade, at the terrible towers. But as they could only be 
 seen when the flashes lighted the darkness, the balls for the 
 most part missed their mark. 
 
 Nearer and nearer drew the dense throng of Cossacks, like 
 a dark wave rolling along at night on the expanse of the sea. 
 
 "Ugh!" exclaimed Zagloba, who was with Skshetuski's cav- 
 alry, "I feel hotter than ever before in my life. The night 
 is so close that everything on me is wringing wet. The devil 
 invented these machines. May the earth swallow them up. 
 These rascals stick like a bone in my throat, amen! There is 
 neither time to eat nor sleep, — the very dogs live better than 
 we! Ugh! how hot it is!" 
 
 The air was indeed oppressive and sultry, and besides it 
 was pregnant with the exhalations of corpses which for days 
 had been putrifying on the battle-field. The sky was shrouded 
 with heavy black clouds. A storm was threatening Zbaraj. 
 Perspiration trickled over the bodies of the soldiers and their 
 breathing was heavy. 
 
 At that moment drums began to rumble in the darkness. 
 
 "They will open attack at once," said Skshetuski, "do you 
 hear the drums?" 
 
 "I hear, I wish the devil were drumming on them. It is 
 sheer desperation." 
 
 "Kill! kill!" shouted the onward-rushing mass. 
 
 Along the entire length of the rampart the battle raged. 
 Vishnyovyetski, Lantskoronski, Firley, and Ostrorvga were 
 attacked simultaneously, so that one could not assist the otlier. 
 The Cossacks, drunk with gorzalka, attacked more fiercely 
 than ever, but were met also with braver resistance. The 
 heroic spirit of their leader reanimated the soldiers. The 
 fierce regular infantry composed of Mazovian peasants, fought 
 the Cossacks with such fury that they got mixed up with their 
 lines. They clubbed with their muskets and fought also with 
 fists and teeth. Beneath the blows of the terrible Mazovians 
 several hundred of the splendid Zaporojian infantry suc- 
 eombed, but fresh bodies immediately took their places. 
 Along the whole line the battle grew more furious. The mus- 
 ket barrels burned the hands of the soldiers; they became 
 short of breath; the commanders could scarcely speak through 
 hoarseness. The Starosta of Krasnostavsk and Skshetuski 
 rushed with the cavalry upon the enemies flank, and bathecl 
 
WIfH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 727 
 
 in the blood of entire divisions as they trampled them down. 
 
 Hour after hour passed, bui; the attack abated not, for the 
 gaps in the ranks of Khmyelnitski's Cossacks were instantly 
 filled with fresh men. The Tartars filled the air with shouts 
 and sent clouds of arrows at the defending soldiers. Men from 
 behind urged the "blacks" on with clubs and scourges. Eage 
 fought with rage, breast struck breast, and man embraced 
 man in the struggle of death. 
 
 Thus they dashed like breakers upon rocky islands. 
 
 Suddenly the earth trembled beneath the feet of the war- 
 riors, the whole sky was enveloped in bluish flames, as if God 
 could no longer look upon the atrocious deeds of men. An 
 awful crash drowned the shouting of the men and the thunder 
 of cannon: The artillery of heaven began a still more terrible 
 cannonade. From east and west the tempest raged. It 
 seemed as though the vault of heaven burst, together with the 
 clouds, and was about to fall on the heads of the combatants. 
 At moments all the world seemed like one vast flame, and 
 then all were blind in the darkness, and again, the red zigzag 
 streaks of lightning rent the black veil. A whirlwind swept 
 away thousands of caps, streamers, and flags, and scattered 
 them over the battle field in the twinkling of an eye. A chaos 
 of thunder clasps, tempest, lightning, fire, and darkness fol- 
 lowed, — the heavens raged like the men. 
 
 Over the town and castle, the intrenchments and the camp 
 burst the unprecedented tempest. The battle was. discon- 
 tinued. Finally the floodgates of heaven opened and not 
 streams, but cataracts, poured down upon the earth. The 
 storm enveloped the earth so that one could not see a step in 
 advance; bodies floated in the ditch. The Cossack regiments 
 abandoned the assault and fled precipitately to their camp. 
 Hurrying along blindly, they ran into each other, and think- 
 ing that the enemy was in pursuit, they scattered in the dark- 
 ness. Right behind them plowed artillery and ammunition 
 wagons, sinking in the mire and overturning. The water 
 washed away the Cossacks' earth-works, roared in the winding 
 trenches, flowed over the covered places, though provided with 
 ditches, and rushed roaring over the plain as if in pursuit of 
 the fleeing Cossacks. 
 
 The downpour grew heavier and heavier. The infantry in 
 the trenches left the ramparts and fled to their tents. But 
 the cavalry of the Chief of Krasnostavsk and Skshetuski re- 
 ceived no order to retreat. They stood close to each other 
 
^28 WITH FIRE AKD SWORD. 
 
 as if in a sea, shaking the ^ater from themselves. Gradually 
 the storm abated. At midnight the rain finally ceased. Be- 
 tween rifts in the clouds here and there a star shone. Another 
 hour passed, and the water had fallen a little. Then sud- 
 denly the prince himself appeared before Skshetuski's squad- 
 ron. 
 
 "Gentlemen,'" he inquired, "are your powder-pouches dry?" 
 
 ''They are, Most Serene Prince," answered Skshetuski. 
 
 "Good! Dismount, wade through the water to those war 
 machines, put powder under them, and blast them; but go 
 quietly. The Chief of Krasnostavsk will go with you." 
 
 "Your order wil be executed, Sir,"' answered Skshetuski. 
 
 Then the prince caught sight of Zagloba, who was drenched 
 to the skin. 
 
 "You asked to go on a sally, now go with these,"' he said. 
 
 "The deuce take it," murmured Zagloba, "this completes 
 my misery."' 
 
 A half hour later two divisions of knights, two hundred 
 and fifty men in each, hurried along wading through water 
 that reached to their armpits. They held their swords in 
 their hands. They were making for those terrible towers of 
 the Cojsacks, which stood about half a furlong from the in- 
 trenehments. 
 
 One division was led bj' that lion of lions, the Chief of 
 Krasnostavsk, Marek, Sobieski, who would not hear of stay- 
 ing within the trenches; the other by Skshetuski. Attendants 
 carried after them pails of tar, dry wood for torches, and 
 powder. Thep proceeded without noise, like wolyes creeping 
 towards a sheepfold on a dark night. 
 
 The little knight joined Skshetuski as a volunteer, for Pan 
 Michael loved such nndertakings more than life. He trod 
 along in the water with joy in his heart and his sword in his 
 hand. Beside him went Pan Bodbipyenta with his un- 
 sheathed "Cowl cutter" sword towering above all, for he was 
 two heads taller than the tallest of the others. Among them 
 Zagloba hastened to keep pace, panting, grumbling, and mim- 
 icking the words of the prince, "You asked to go on a sally, 
 go now with these. A dog wouldn't go to its wedding through 
 water like this. If ever I advise a sally in such weather may 
 I drink nothing but water all my life! Why, I am not a duck 
 and my belly is not a boat. I have always abominated water, 
 and all the more do I despise this water in which peasant 
 carcasses are soaking." 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. y^g 
 
 "0 keep quiet," said Pan Michael. 
 
 "Keep 4uiet yourself, you are no bigger than a gudgeon 
 and know how to swim, so it is easy for you. I must say that 
 it is 'ungrateful on the part of the prmce to begrudge my 
 enjoying a rest after my victory over Burlay. Zagloba has 
 done enough, may everybody do as much, but let Zagloba 
 alone, for you will be badly oil when he is no more. For God's 
 sake, if I fall into a hole, pull me out by the ears, for I should 
 drown at once." 
 
 "Keep quiet," said Skshetuski, "behind those dark shadows 
 Cossacks are lurking, they might hear you." 
 
 "Where? what did you say?" 
 
 "Why there, in those mounds in the grass." 
 
 "As though that too was wanting. May the bright thunder 
 strike them. . . " 
 
 But the remaining words were choked off by Pan Michael, 
 who put his hand on Zagloba's mouth, for the earthworks 
 were scarce fifty steps away. The men kept as quiet as pos- 
 sible, but the water splashed beneath their feet: fortunately 
 it began to rain again and the noise drowned that of their 
 footsteps. 
 
 There were no sentries stationed at the coverings. Who 
 in the world could have expected a sally in such a teinpest, 
 which divided the contending armies as with a lake. 
 
 Pan Michael and Longin pushed ahead and reached the 
 earthworks first. The little knight let his sabre drop by his 
 side, and putting both hands to his mouth cried out "Hello! 
 there." 
 
 "Hey! Men!" 
 
 "What is it?" answered from within the voices of the Cos- 
 sacks who evidently thoug'ht that some one had come over 
 from the Cossack wagon camp. 
 
 "God be praised," said Volodiyovski, "let us in." 
 
 "Don't you know how to get in?" 
 
 "Yes, I know," answered Volodiyovski, and having found 
 the entrance he jumped in. Longin and others followed him. 
 
 Then from the interior of the mound arose terrified cries. 
 At the same time the knights shouted and rushed together 
 into other mounds. Groans and the clash of steel mingled in 
 the darkness. Here and there dark figures rushed past, others 
 fell to the ground, now and then shots were heard; all that 
 scrimmage did not last long, not even a quarter of an hour. 
 The Cossacks for the most part, in deep sleep, were surprised 
 
730 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 and even offered no resistance, and were killed before they 
 could reach their aims. 
 
 "To the infernal machines!" cried the voice of the Starosta 
 of Krasnostavsk. 
 
 The knights rushed to the towers. 
 
 "Fire them from the inside, for the outside is wet," thun- 
 dered Skshetuski. 
 
 But the order was not easy to carry out; for in these towers 
 built of pine beams, no door or any sort of inlet could be 
 found. The Cossack gunners mounted them on ladders, and 
 the guns, of small calibre, as only for such was there room, 
 were drawn up with ropes. The knights for some time ran 
 round the towers, striking the walls with their swords and 
 pulling with their hands at the corners. 
 
 Fortunately the attendants had brought axes, and they 
 began to hack at the towers. Pan Marek Sobieski ordered 
 casks of powder that had been prepared for the purpose to be 
 laid beneath. The casks of tar and torches were lighted, and 
 the flames began to Uck the wet wood. 
 
 Before it ignited and the powder had exploded, Longin 
 bent down and lifted up an enormous stone which the Cos- 
 sacks had dug from the ground. 
 
 Four of the strongest men could not move it from its place, 
 but he raised it with his mighty hands, and in the light of 
 the burning tar the blood could be seen rushing to his face. 
 The knights gazed upon him with amazement. 
 
 "It is Hercules himself! May bullets strike him!" they ex- 
 claimed, raising their hands with astonishment. 
 
 Meanwhile Longin went up to one of the machines under 
 which no fire had been set yet, bent backward, and hurled the 
 stone at the centre of the wall. Those present bent their 
 heads, the stone whizzed in its course and burst open the 
 mortices; a crash was heard, the tower opened as if broken 
 in two, then tumbled down with a crash. 
 
 Tar was poured over the masses of timber and it was set 
 on fire at once. 
 
 Shortly afterwards several tens of the towers were ablaze, 
 like gigantic torches they illumined the plain. Eain was still 
 falling, but the fire prevailed and the towers were ablaze to 
 the astonishment of both armies, since the night was so wet. 
 
 From the Cossack camp Stepka, Kulak and Mrozovitski, 
 each at the head of some thousands of Cossacks, rushed to the 
 rescue. They attempted to extinguish the flames, but in vain. 
 
WtTB FIRE AND SWORD. 731 
 
 The pillars of flame and the red clouds of smoke rose higher 
 and higher towards the sky and were reflected in the lakes and 
 ponds that had been fonned by the tempest on the battle field. 
 
 Meanwhile the knights hurried in close lines towards the 
 entrenchments, and were greeted from afar with shouts of 
 joy. Suddenly Skshetuski looked about, glanced through the 
 lines, and thundered out, "Halt." 
 
 Longin and the little knight were missing. Probably in 
 their zeal they had remained too long in the last tower, or 
 perhaps they had found Cossacks in hiding. Anyway they 
 had not noticed the returning knights. 
 
 "Ketum," commanded' Skshetuski. 
 
 The Starosta of Krasnostavsk did not know what was the 
 matter. He hurried up to inquire, and Just at that moment 
 the two lost men appeared, as if they had emerged from the 
 earth half way between the towers and the knights. 
 
 Longin with his shining "Cowl cutter" in his hand, took 
 giant strides, and beside him Pan Michael trotted along. Both 
 O'f them had their heads turned towards the Cossacks, who 
 were pursuing them like a pack of unleashed hounds. By the 
 red gleam of the fires the pursuit was clearly visible. It 
 looked as if an enormous elk with its young one was fieeing 
 before a crowd of hunters, ready at any moment to stand at 
 bay against the pursuers. 
 
 "They will be slaughtered; for heaven's sake, onward!" 
 shouted Zagloba in a heartrending voice. "They will slay 
 them with arrows or musket shots. For Christ's sake, be 
 quick!" 
 
 "Without considering that a new battle might begin the next 
 moment, he rushed sword in hand, together with Skshetuski 
 and others, to the rescue. He slipped, stumbled, got up again, 
 snorted, shouted, and shaking all over, rushed onward with 
 the last remnant of his legs and breath. 
 
 But the Cossacks did not shoot, their guns were wet as were 
 also the strings of their bows. They pressed on, however, and 
 some running ahead had almost overtaken the fugitives, when 
 the knig-hts suddenly turned like bears at bay, and ^ving a 
 preat shout they raised their swords on high. Longin with 
 his enormous sword appeared to them like a supernatural 
 beinff. 
 
 As two tawny wolves turn about when the hounds press 
 too closely upon them and show their white teeth, thus keep- 
 ing the panting pack at a distance, so these two repeatedly 
 
„ 2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 turned, and each time the pursuers halted. Once a man, 
 bolder than the rest, ran up to them with a scythe in his 
 hand, but Pan Michael jumped at him like a wild-eat' and 
 wounded him to death. The rest paused to wait for their 
 comrades, who came bounding on in a dense mass. 
 
 But the lines of knights also came nearer and nearer, and 
 Zagloba rushed along swinging his sword above his head and 
 roaring out with an unearthly voice: 
 
 "Strike! kill!" 
 
 Now the ramparts thundered, and a bomb, screaming like 
 an owl, described a red arc in the sky and fell amid the dense 
 Cossack crowd. Soon there followed another, a third, and a 
 tenth. It seemed as if the battle was to begin anew. 
 
 Before the siege of ZbaraJ, this kind of missile was un- 
 known to the Cossacks, and when sober, they stood in great 
 terror of them, seeing in them evidences of Yeremy's sorcery. 
 The pursuers therefore stopped for a moment, and scattered 
 in every direction when the bombs burst among them, caus- 
 ing terror, death, and destruction. 
 
 "Save yourselves!" they yelled, in panic-stricken voices. 
 
 All scattered, and Pan Longin and the little knight hurried 
 up to the ranks of the hussars. Zagloba embraced now one, 
 now the other, kissing them on the cheeks and brows. Joy 
 overpowered him. But he attempted to- restrain it lest he 
 should show his soft heart, therefore he cried: 
 
 "Hey! you blockheads! I won't say that I love you, but I 
 feared for you. Siippose they had Mlled you! Is that the 
 way you understand military discipline, to lag behind? You 
 deserve to have your feet tied to the tails of horses and to 
 be dragged through the square. I shall be the first to tell 
 the prince to punish you. Let us go to sleep now. Praise 
 be to God for that! Those dog-brothers were in luck that the 
 grenades dispersed them, for I should have cut them up like 
 cabbages. How could I see my friends in danger and not flv 
 to their aid? We must have a drink on this to-night. Praise 
 be to God for that! I almost thought that we should have to 
 sing a requiem to-morrow. Still I am sorry that no encounter 
 took place, for my hand is itching terribly, though I made 
 those fellows in the belters taste horse-beans and onions." 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 It became necessary to build new ramparts and to concen- 
 trate the camp in order to render the entrenchments of the 
 Cossacks useless, and to make defence easier for their own 
 reduced forces. They worked therefore all through the night 
 after the storm. But meantime the Cossacks did not remain 
 idle. On the night between Tuesday and Wednesday they 
 approached silently and threw up a second ajid much higher 
 wall around the camp, from which at early dawn they opened 
 fire amid loud shouts. For four days and four nights they 
 continued an uninterrupted fire. Great destruction was 
 wrought on both sides, for the best gunners of both armies 
 were pitted against each other. 
 
 From time to tim^ croiv^ds of Cossacks and of detached 
 hordes rushed to the assault, but they did not reach the ram- 
 parts, for the fire was too hot. The enemy possessing strong 
 forces changed the divisions in action, allowing some to rest 
 and sending others to the fight. In the opposite camp, how- 
 ever, there were no reserve troops. The same men had to 
 keep firing, rush to the defense at any moment whenever 
 assaults threatened, bury the dead, dig wells, and raise the 
 ramparts higher for better protection. They slept, or rather 
 dozed, on the ramparts under fire, while Tjalls were flying so 
 thickly that every morning they could be swept from the 
 square. For four days no one removed his clothing, which 
 when wet from rain was dried by the sun; during the day the 
 bodies of the men were scorched, at night they were chilled. 
 For four long days no one had a warm mouthful of food; they 
 drank gorzalka, mixing powder with it to give it more sub- 
 stance; they munched biscuits and tore with their teeth 
 dried-up bits of smoked meat; and all this in the midst of 
 continued firing, smoke, of the whizzing of bullets, and the 
 thunder of cannon. 
 
 To be struck on the head or about the body was nothing; 
 the soldier tied a dirty rag about his bloody head and fought 
 on. They were wonderful men. In ragged coats, with rusty 
 
 733 
 
734 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 
 
 weapons, shattered muskets in their hands, and eyes red with 
 sleeplessness, they were ever watchful, and ever ready, and 
 eager day and night, in rain or in sunshine, to do battle. 
 
 The soldiers loved their leader in danger, in storms, in 
 wounds, and in death. Their souls were the exalted souls of 
 heroes, their hearts became hard as steel, their senses were 
 dulled. Horror became a delight to them. Different squad- 
 rons vied with each other in enduring hunger, sleeplessness, 
 toil, and in bravery and fury. It came to such a point that 
 it was difficult to keep the soldiers on the ramparts; mere 
 defense was not enough, they delighted in rushing upon the 
 enemy like ravenous wolves upon a flock of sheep. In all the . 
 regiments a wild joy reigned. Had any one hinted at sur- 
 render he would have been torn to pieces on the spot. "Here 
 we shall die," repeated every mouth. 
 
 Every command of the leader was executed with lightning- 
 like rapidity. Once it happened that the prince, as he went 
 at evening around the ramparts, noticing that the fire of the 
 quarter regiment of Leschynski was growing weaker, rode up 
 to the soldiers and asked: 
 
 "Why are you not firing?" 
 
 "We are out of powder, we have sent to the castle for 
 some." 
 
 "There is some much nearer," said the prince, pointing to 
 the enemy's entrenchment. 
 
 Hardly had he spoken when the entire regiment rushed 
 from the ramparts, threw itself upon the enemy, and broke 
 like a cyclone upon the entrenchments. With muskets 
 clubbed, with swords and pikes, they slaughtered the Cos- 
 sacks; four cannon 'were spiked; after half an hour they re- 
 turned decimated, but victorious, and laden with stores of 
 powder. Day followed day. The Cossack entrenchments 
 formed an ever-closer ring around the Polish barricade and 
 pushed into it as a wedge into wood. The firing was now 
 at such close range that, not counting the assaults, about 
 ten men a day fell in each squadron. The priests could not 
 come to them with the sacrament. The besieged sheltered 
 themselves with wagons, tents, skins, and suspended gar- 
 ments. The dead were buried at night on the spot on which 
 they fell; but the living fought all the more fiercely over 
 the graves of their comrades. Khmyelnitski let the blood 
 of his men flow without stint, but every assault brought upon 
 him greater losses. He was astounded at the resistance; he 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 735 
 
 counted upon time to shatter the courage and strength of 
 the besieged, but time passed and they only showed an in- 
 creasing contempt for death. 
 
 The leaders set an example to the soldiers. Prince Yere- 
 my slept on the bare ground on the ramparts, drank gor- 
 zaika, ate smpked horse-meat, and endured the greatest hard- 
 ships. The royal standard bearer Konyetspolski, and the 
 Starosta of Krasnostavsk led divisions to the attack in per- 
 son. During the assaults they exposed themselves without 
 armor in the densest rain of bullets. Even leaders like 0^- 
 trorog who possessed no military knowledge and upon whom 
 the soldiers looked with suspicion, seemed now to be changed 
 into new men by Yeremy. Old Firley and Lantskronski 
 slept also on the ramparts, and Pan Pshiyemski pointed can- 
 non during the day time, and at night dug under ground 
 like a mole, putting countermines beneath the mines of the 
 Cossacks and blowing them into the air; or he built under- 
 ground tunnels through which the soldiers stole like ghosts 
 and surprised the Cossacks in their sleep. 
 
 Khmyelnitski finally decided to enter into negotiations, 
 with the idea of accomplishing something by strategy. On 
 the 34th of July, towards the evening, the Cossacks began to 
 cry out to the Polish soldiers to cease firing. A Zaporojian 
 envoy announced that the hetman wished to see old Zats- 
 vilikhovski. After a short consultation the commanders ac- 
 cepted the proposition and the old man left the entrench- 
 ments. 
 
 The knights saw from the distance the respect with which 
 Zatsvilikhovski was treated by the Cossacks; for during the 
 short time he was a commissioner, he had gained the regard 
 of the wild Zaporojians, and Khmyelnitski himself held him 
 in high respect. The firing ceased. The Cossacks came from 
 their entrenchments close to the ramparts, and the knights 
 went down to meet them. Both sides were on their guard, 
 but there was nothing unfriendly in this meeting. The 
 nobles had always liked the Cossacks more than the "blacks," 
 because of ttieir valor and endurance in battle. Now they 
 met them on equal terms, as knights with knights. The 
 Cossacks looked with wonder upon that impregnable den 
 of lions which held in check their might and that of the 
 Khan. They mingled more freely and began to deplore that 
 BO much Christian blood was being shed. Finally, they 
 treated one another to tobacco and gorzalka. 
 
736 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Hah! noble knights!" said some of the veteran Zaporo- 
 jians, "if 3'ou had always fought in this way there would 
 have been a different outcome at Zolta Woda, Korsun and 
 Pilavyets. Why you are devils, and not men; we never have 
 seen the like of you." 
 
 "Come to-morrow and the day afterwards; you will always 
 find us the same." 
 
 "Yes, we shall come, but thank God now for a brief rest. 
 Much Christian blood is being shed, but hunger will conquer 
 you in the end." 
 
 "The king will come before hunger; we have just risen 
 from a hearty meal." 
 
 "And should provisions became scarce we will look for 
 them in your wagon-trains," said Zagloba, with his arms 
 akimbo. 
 
 "God grant that our brother, Zatsvilikhovski, is successful 
 in making terms with our hetman. If not, we shall attack 
 again this evening." 
 
 "We are waiting for you." 
 
 "The Khan has promised that you shall all die." 
 
 "And our prince has resolved to honor the Khan by drag- 
 ging him by the beard at his horse's tail." 
 
 "He is a wizard, but he cannot accomplish that." 
 
 "It were better for you to fight with our prince against 
 the heathens, than to rise in arms against your sovereign."' 
 
 "With your prince? H'm! that would be nice." 
 
 "Why do you rebel? the king is coming; fear the king. 
 Prince Yeremy was also a father to you — " 
 
 "He is a father as death is a mother. The plague has not 
 swept away so many warriors as he." 
 
 "He will do worse; you don't know him yet." 
 
 "N^or do we wish to know him. Our chiefs say that the 
 Cossack whom he looks upon is lost." 
 
 "It will be so with Khmyelnitski." 
 
 "God knows what will happen. This is certain, that both 
 cannot live together on this earth. Our father says that if 
 you will surrender Y^eremy to him, he will let you all go free, 
 and that he with all of us will do homage to the king." 
 
 At this the soldiers began to gasp and grind their teeth. 
 
 "Keep quiet, or we will draw our swords." 
 
 "You Poles are faithful," said the Cossacks, "but you shall 
 die." 
 
 And thus they conversed, sometimes in a friendly manner. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 737 
 
 sometimes angrily threatening each other. In the afternoon 
 Zatsvilikhovski returned to tlie camp. Negotiations had not 
 been agreed upon, and a truce had not been obtained. Khmy- 
 elnitski demanded the surrender of the prince and of the 
 royal standard bearer Konyetspolski. Finally, he enumer- 
 ated the wrongs that had been inflicted upon the Zaporojians, 
 and sought to persuade Zatsvilikhovski to remain with him; 
 this had angered the old knight and he sprang up and rode 
 away. In the evening an assault took place which was re- 
 pulsed with great slaughter. The w'hole camp was afire for 
 two hours. Not only were the Cossacks repulsed from the 
 ramparts, but the infantry captured the first entrenchment, 
 destroyed the; embrazures, and burned fourteen moving 
 towers. Khmyelnitski had vowed to the Khan that on this 
 night he would not withdraw as long as a man remained 
 alive within the entrenchments. 
 
 At eaxly dawn the firing and the undermining of the ram- 
 parts was begun afresh. The whole day long the battle 
 raged, and flails, scythes, swords, stones, and clods of earth, 
 were used in the combat. The friendly feeling of the day 
 before, that regretted shedding Christian blood, had given 
 place to a wild exasperation. Eain fell ofE and on in the 
 morning. The soldiers received only half rations on this 
 day, at which Pan Zagloba grumbled greatly but empty 
 stomachs doubled the rage of the knights. They swore that 
 they would not surrender, but would fight to the last breath. 
 In the evening the Cossacks, disguised as Turks, made a fresh 
 assault, but this lasted but a short time. A noisy and restless 
 night followed. The firing did not cease for a moment. 
 The combatants challenged each other and they fought 
 singly and in groups. 
 
 Pan Longin rushed out on a sally, but no one dared to 
 oppose him, they only shot at him from a distance. But 
 Skshetuski and Volodiyovski gained great glory, and the 
 latter in single combat killed the famous warrior Dudar. 
 
 Even Zagloba sallied out, but only to indulge his tongue: 
 "Since I defeated Burlay," said he, "I cannot fight any com- 
 mon rascal." In a battle of words he found not his equal 
 among the Cossacks; when in safety behind an embankment 
 he drove them desperate by shouting out, in a stentorian 
 voice, which seemed to issue from the depths of the earth: 
 
 "You sit here, you peasants, before Zbaraj, but the Lithu- 
 anian army is marching up from the lowlands of the Dnieper. 
 
 ^7 
 
728 WITH FIRE AyD 8W0BD. 
 
 They are enjoying themselves with your wives and daughters. 
 Xext spring you beet-soup-swillers will find in your homes, 
 provided you find any homes, whole crowds of little beet- 
 soup-swUlers." 
 
 This was true. The Lithuanina army under EadzivU was 
 TesiHj traversing the lowlands of the Dnieper, burning and 
 destroying everything, and leaving only land and water be- 
 hind them. The Cossacks knowing this, became enraged, 
 and rained bullets on Zagloba, which fell about like pears 
 from a tree that has been shaken. He dusked his head, how- 
 ever, behind the embankment, and called out again: 
 
 "You dog-souls have missed me, but I did not miss Burlay. 
 Come on, I will fight you in single combat. You know me, 
 come on. Pepper away, you peasants, as long as you can; 
 next winter you will be nursing young Tartars in the Crimea 
 laboring along the Dnieper. Come on! I'll give you a mite 
 for the head of your Khmyelnitski. Give him a slap on the 
 snout from me, from Zagloba, do you hear? You dirt! Is 
 there not enough of your carrion lying about on the field 
 smelling like dead dogs? The plague sends her regards to 
 you; to your plows and scows and pitchforks, you dirty 
 scoundrels; you should be rowing loads of salt and cherries 
 against the stream, instead of disgusting us with your pres- 
 ence here." 
 
 The Cossacks laughed in their turn at the gentleman who 
 shared a single biscuit among three. They asked why the 
 gentlemen did not make their vassals pay their rents and 
 tithes. But Zagloba always got the best of this kind of 
 badinage. These interchanges of compliments, interrupted 
 by curses and wild laughter, lasted through whole nights 
 while firing and great and small combats raged. Then Pan 
 Yanitski rode ofl: to negotiate with the Khan, but the latter 
 only repeated that they must die; whereupon the envoy, grow- 
 ing impatient, said: 
 
 ■'You prophesied this long ago but nothing has happened 
 to us yet, he who comes for our heads brings his own." 
 
 The Khan asked that Prince Yeremy should confer with 
 his Grand Vizir on the field, but this was discovered to be a 
 treacherous trap, and the negotiations were broken off. The 
 fighting went on unceasingly, in the evening assaults, during 
 the day, cannonading and musketry-fire, flying shells and 
 grenades, attacks, skirmishes, desperate sallies by the cavalry, 
 defeats, and ever-increasing bloodshed. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 739 
 
 A wild desire for danger and bloodshed possessed the sol- 
 diers. They went into battle with songs and laughter as if 
 to a wedding. They had become so accustomed to the 
 thunder of cannon, that the divisions that were detailed to 
 sleep, slept peacefully under fire amid showers of bullets. 
 Provisions grew scarcer; the commanders had not stacked the 
 camp sufficiently before the arrival of the prince. The price 
 of food rose very high, but those who had money for bread 
 and gorzalka gladly shared their purchases with the others. 
 No one took thought of the morrow, for everyone knew that 
 one of two things was inevitable; either relief by the king or 
 death. They were prepared for either, but more ready for 
 battle. Ten resisted thousands with a valor unequalled in 
 history, and with a fury that rendered every assault a defeat 
 for the Cossacks. Besides, not a day passed without several 
 sallies being made and attacks upon the enemy's own en- 
 trenchments. On the evenings when Khmyelnitski thought 
 that fatigue had overcome the besieged, and he was preparing 
 for an assault, joyful songs would reach his ears. He was 
 lost in amazement and admiration, and the thought came to 
 him that Yeremy was a mightier wizard than all the Cos- 
 sacks put together. Then he would become furious with 
 rage and throw himself into the battle. He shed oceans 
 of blood, for he comprehended that his star was beginning to 
 pale before that of the terrible prince. 
 
 In the camp of the Cossacks they sang songs about Yeremy 
 and told stories about him at which the hair of the warriors 
 stood on end. They said that at times when he appeared by 
 night on the ramparts, he would visibly grow until he was 
 taller Dy a head than the towers of Zbaraj, that his eyes then 
 looked like two moons and that the sword in his hand shone 
 like that star of ill omen that God sets at times in the sky 
 for the destruction of men. They also related that at his 
 call dead heroes arose with clank of armor, to join his 
 living warriors. Yeremy was in the mouth of all; beggar 
 minstrels sang of him; the old Zaporojians "blacks" and Tar- 
 tars spoke of him. And in these stories and in the supersti- 
 tious terror, there was evidenced a" certain wild love, which 
 these children of the steppes bore for their bloody destroyer. 
 So it was; Khmyelnitski paled before him, not only in the 
 eyes of the Khan and the Tartars, but even in the eyes of his 
 own men. He saw that he must take Zbaraj, or his authority 
 would vanish like mist before the dawn, he must trample this 
 lion under foot or die. 
 
740 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 But the lion not only defended himself but every day 
 rushed with greater rage and fury from his lair. Neither 
 superior force, nor treachery, nor stratagem, prevailed against 
 him. The Cossacks and the "blacks" began to murmur. It 
 was difiScult for the latter to stand the smoke, fire, shower 
 of bullets, smell of corpses, rain, and heat, in the face of 
 death; but the brave Cossacks did not fear battle, labor, 
 storms, fire, blood, death — they feared "Yeremy." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 In this memorable siege of Zbaraj many an obscure knight 
 made himself a name of undying fame, but the greatest praise 
 was due to Pan Longin Podbipyenta, whose great merits 
 were only surpassed by his modesty. 
 
 The night was dreary, and dark, and wet; the soldiers 
 weary from watching at the ramparts, dozed, leaning upon 
 their weapons. After ten days of continuous battle, this was 
 the first moment of peace and rest. In the new trench of the 
 enemy scarce thirty paces distant, one could hear no shouts 
 nor curses, nor the usual tumult. It appeared as if the 
 enemy, who had desired to tire out the besieged, were them- 
 selves tired out. Here and there gleamed the faint light of 
 a fire behind a mound. From somewhere there arose sweet, 
 soft notes of a lute, played by some Cossack. In the distance 
 the Tartar horses neighed, and on the embankments from 
 time to time one could hear the calls of the sentinels. 
 
 The prince's cuirrassiers were that night on infantry-ser- 
 vice in the camp. Skshetuski, Podbipyenta, the little knight, 
 and Zagloba, conversed in low tones upon the rampart, and 
 in the intervals of their discourse they listened to the splash- 
 ing of the rain in the trench. Skshetuski remarked: 
 
 "This quiet seems strange to me, my ears are so accus- 
 tomed to noise and uproar that they ring in the stillness. 
 But I hope no treachery lies hidden in this silence." 
 
 "Since I receive but half rations it is all the same to me," 
 Zagloba murmured sadly. "My courage requires three 
 things: Sufficient to eat, plenty to drink, and plenty of sleep. 
 The best strap drys and cracks if it is not oiled, and especially 
 if it be soaked in water like hemp. The rain soaks us, the 
 Cossacks hack us up, is it any wonder if we fall to pieces 
 in strips? It is a pretty mess all round; the price of a loaf 
 has risen to a florin and a quart of gorzalka to five. The 
 water is not fit for a dog, for the wells are infected by the 
 corpses, and I am as thirsty as my boots, which open their 
 mouths like a fish." 
 
 741 
 
742 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "But your boots drink water without making any fuss 
 over it," said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Keep quiet. Pan Michael, why you are no larger than a 
 titmouse, a grain of millet is sufficient for you, and you can't 
 drink more than a thimbleful. But I, thank God, am not 
 so delicate, and was not scratched up by a hen, but was bom 
 of a woman; therefore I need food and drink adequate for a 
 man, and not for a bug. As I have had nothing in my mouth 
 but saliva since noon- time, I can't relish your jokes." 
 
 Zagloba snorted with anger, and Pan Michael, feeling with 
 his hand, said: 
 
 ''I have in one of my pockets a flask that I snatched from 
 a Cossack to-day; but since I was scratched up by a hen, 
 I think the gorzalka of such an insignificant creature would 
 not be to your relish either. Here's to you, Yan," said he, 
 addressing Skshetuski. 
 
 "Give it to me, for I feel cold,'" said Skshetuski. 
 
 "Drink to the health of Pan Longin.'' 
 
 "You are a rascal. Pan Michael," said Zagloba. "Blessed 
 be the hens that could scratch up warrors like you; unfor- 
 tunately such hens do not exist. I did not have you in mind 
 when I made the remark." 
 
 "Take it from Pan Podbipyenta," said Pan Michael. "I 
 do not wish to offend you." 
 
 ''"\^Tiat are you doing, man? Leave some for me," cried 
 Zagloba, in alarm, as he watched the Lithuanian drinking. 
 "You throw your head too far back, I wish to God it would re- 
 main so; the trouble with you is that your inside is too big, 
 you don't fill up soon enough. Just look at him pouring the 
 gorzalka down, as if into a decayed tree-trunk. May you 
 be killed!" 
 
 "WTiat's the matter, I drank but a few drops,'' said Lon- 
 gin, passing the flask. 
 
 Zagloba put it too his lips and drained the contents, then, 
 he puffed and said: 
 
 "The only consolation is, that when our misery is over, 
 and God allows us to carry our heads out of these dangers, 
 we will make up for it all. I think some feasts will surely 
 be prepared for us. The Bernardine Jabkovski is a fine 
 feeder but I can drive him away even with a goat's horn." 
 
 "And what news did you and the priest Jabkovski heat 
 to-day from Mukhovietski,' said Pan Michael. 
 
 "Hush!" said Skshetuski, "someone is coming from the 
 square." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. y^j 
 
 They all grew dumb and a dark figure appeared and asked 
 In a low voice: 
 
 "Are you watching?" 
 
 ■'We are, Your Highness," said Skslietuski, rising. 
 
 "Be on your guard. This quiet threatens evil." 
 
 The prince then passed on to see if sleep had overcome the 
 tired soldiers anywhere. Pan Longin clasped his hands: 
 
 "What a leader! What a warrior!" 
 
 "He rests less than we do," said Skshetuski, "he examines 
 all the ramparts from here to the second lake in this manner 
 every night." 
 
 "God give him health!" 
 
 "Amen!" 
 
 Silence followed. All looked with straining eyes into the 
 darkness, but they could see nothing; silence reigned over 
 the Cossack entrenchments, every fire was extinguished. 
 
 "We could devour them now like susliks," murmured Volo- 
 diyovski. 
 
 "Who can tell," replied Skshetuski. 
 
 "I am so sleepy," muttered Zagloba, "that I can scarcely 
 keep my eyes open, and. yet sleep is forbidden. I should like 
 to know when it will be allowed. Whether there is firing 
 going on or not, one must remain under arms and keep watch, 
 nodding from weariness, like a Jew on his Sabbath. It is fit 
 service for dogs! I don't know what excites me so, whether 
 it is the gorzalka or the confusion that overtook the priest 
 Jabkovski and myself this morning on account of an un- 
 deserved lecture that we got." 
 
 "How did that happen?" asked Pan Longin, "you began to 
 tell us, but did not finish." 
 
 "Then I'll tell you now; it may help to keep us awake. 
 Well, I went with Father Jabkovski to the castle, hoping to 
 find something to munch there. We looked about every- 
 where, but could find nothing, and we came back in a bad 
 humor. In the Court we met a Calvinist priest who had been 
 giving the last consolation to Captain Shenberk of Firley's 
 squadron, who was wounded yesterday. I asked him: 'Wliy 
 are you prowling about here and angftring God? You will 
 bring a curse upon us yet!' Then he, evidently relying upon 
 the protection of the Castellan of Eelsk, replied: 'Our faith 
 is as good as yours, and better, perhaps." When he said this 
 we were petrified with horror. But I held my tongue. I 
 thought to myself, Father Jabkovski is here, let him carry on 
 
-4- WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 the argument. Jabkovski immediately came out with a great 
 argument, for he punched him under his ribs. The Calvinist 
 made no reply, but tottered till he fell against the wall. At 
 this moment the Prince and Mukhovietski passed by, and then 
 we caught it. We should not argue nor make an uproar, for 
 this was neither the time nor place for it. They scolded us 
 as if we were two schoolboys; and hardly with right, for un- 
 less I am a false prophet, these ministers of Pan Firley will 
 bring misfortune upon us." 
 
 "And what about Captain Shenberk, was he converted?" 
 asked Pan Michael. 
 
 "No, he died in error, as he had lived." 
 
 "Oh, that men should renounce their salvation rather than 
 their stubbornness," sighed Pan Longin. 
 
 "God protects us in the face of the overwhelming forces 
 of the Cossacks," Zagloba continued, "and yet men continue 
 to insult him. Is it known to you, gentlemen, that balls of 
 thread were shot into the square from yonder trench, and the 
 soldiers say that where the balls fell the ground was covered 
 with leprosy?" 
 
 "It is known that devils are employed by Khmyelnitski to 
 do such things," said the Lithuanian, crossing himself. 
 
 "I saw the witches myself," added Skshetuski, "and I tell 
 you, gentlemen " ^ 
 
 He was interrupted by Volodiyovski, who suddenly pressed 
 his arm and whispered: 
 
 "Silence!" 
 
 Then he sprang to the edge of the ramparts and listened 
 attentively. 
 
 "I don't hear anything," said Zagloba. 
 
 "Sh! the rain drowns everything," said Skshetuski. 
 
 Pan Michael waved with his hand for silence and continued 
 to listen carefully for some time. At last he approached his 
 comrades, "they are coming," he whispered. "Inform the 
 prince, he has gone towards Ostrorog's quarters," said Skshet- 
 uski softly, "meantime we will warn the soldiers." 
 
 Instantly they hurried along the ramparts, stopping every 
 moment and whispering to the sentinels: 
 
 "They are coming! they are coming!" 
 
 The words flew from mouth to mouth like lightning. About 
 a quarter of an hour later the prince arrived on horseback 
 and gave instructions to the officers. Since the enemy evi- 
 dently purposed to surprise the camp while asleep, and the 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 745 
 
 prince wished him to remain in this illusion, the soldiers were 
 to keep as quiet as possible and to let the assailants come 
 right up to the ramparts, and then, when a cannon was fired as 
 a signal, they were to attack them at once and take them by 
 surprise. 
 
 The soldiers were ready; their muskets in their hands they 
 waited in silence. Skshetuski, Volodiyovski and Longin stood 
 next to each other. Zagloba remained near them also, for he 
 knew from experience that most of the balls fell on the square, 
 and that he was safest on the rampart near these three war- 
 riors. He posted himself a little behind the knights, so as to 
 escape the first onset. Longin knelt a little to one side, and 
 Volodiyovski pressed close to Skshetuski and whispered in 
 his ear. 
 
 "They are coming, surely." 
 "With measured tread." 
 "These are no 'blacks,' nor Tartars." 
 "Zaporojian infantry?" 
 
 "Or janissaries, for they march well. We could attack them 
 best with cavalry." 
 
 "It is too dark for cavalry to-night." 
 "Do you hear them now?" 
 "Sh!" 
 
 The camp seemed sunk in sleep; the deepest silence pre- 
 vailed, brokq^ only by the patter of the rain. Another sound, 
 like a pattermg, might be heard, ever increasing and growing 
 more and more distinct; at last a long, dense mass, but a few 
 steps from the trench, made itself visible, inasmuch as it was 
 darker and blacker than the darkest of nights. 
 
 The soldiers held their breath, and the little knight jogged 
 Skshetuski's elbow as if thus to express his satisfaction. 
 
 The assailants reached the fosse and lowering ladders into , 
 it, they descended, and then leaned them against the rampart 
 on the opposite side. The rampart was wrapped in a silence 
 as if all were dead upon and behind it. 
 
 In spite of all the caution of the assailants, a step creaked 
 and shook on the ladder-rounds now and then. 
 
 "You'll get your dish of horse-beans all right," said Zagloba 
 to himself. 
 
 Volodiyovski had ceased jogging Skshetuski, Pan Longin 
 grasped firmly his "Cowl-cutter" and prepared to give the 
 first blow, for he was nearest to the edge of the rampart. 
 Three pair of hands showed on the edge of the rampart, then 
 
y^s WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 three helmet crests gradually and cautiously mounted higher 
 and higher. 
 
 "These are Turks," thought Pan Longin. 
 
 In an instant a terrible roar of thousands of muskets re- 
 sounded; it became as light as day. Ere the light vanished 
 Longin swung his arm and landed such a mighty stroke with 
 • his terrible sword, that the air whistled about it. 
 
 Three bodies fell into the trench; three helmeted heads 
 rolled before the kneeling knight. 
 
 Though hell was ragmg upon earth, heaven opened before 
 Pan Longin. Wings seemed to sprout from his shoulders; 
 choirs of angels sang in his breast, as if he were rising up to 
 heaven; he fought as in a dream and every blow of his sword 
 was like a prayer of thanks. 
 
 All his ancestors from Stoveyko down were rejoicing in 
 heaven at this last holder of the Podbipyenta Oowl-Cutter, 
 was such a man. 
 
 This assault, in which on the enemies' side the auxiliary 
 forces of the Eumelian and Silistrian Turks, together with the 
 Khan's guards, took the main part, was repulsed with more 
 bloodshed than any preceding attack, and drew down a ter- 
 rible tempest of wrath upon the head of Khmyelnitski. He 
 had assured the Khan that the Poles would fight with less 
 rage against the Turks, and that if these troops were given 
 to him, he would certainly capture the camp. 5!e was, there- 
 fore, now obliged to mollify the Khan and the enraged mur- 
 zas, and to win them with presents. He presented the Khan 
 with ten thousand dollars and Tukhay Bey, Korz Adze, Suba- 
 gazi, Nuv-ed-Din Galzi, with two thousand each. 
 
 In the meantime the camp-followers dragged the bodies 
 from the trench. The soldiers rested until morning, for they 
 were convinced that the assault would not be repeated. All 
 slept soundly, except Longin Podbipyenta, who lay in the 
 form of a cross all night upon his sword, and thanked God 
 that he had permitted him to accomplish his vow and to have 
 gained such glory that his name was repeated from mouth to 
 mouth in camp and town. Next morning he was summoned 
 to the presence of Prince Vishnyovyetski, who praised him 
 highly, while the soldiers came in crowds all day to congratu- 
 late him and to look at the three heads which had been placed 
 by a servant before his tent and which were already black- 
 ening the air. There was no little amazement and envy, and 
 some could scarce believe their own eyes for the heads and 
 
PAN LONGIN SLASHED TERRIBLY. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. -4- 
 
 linked cowls were cut off from the helmets as evenly as if 
 they had been done with shears. 
 
 "You are a terrible cutter/' exclaimed the nobles. "We 
 knew Well enough that you were an excellent knight, but the 
 heroes of the ancient times might well envy you such a stroke, 
 for the best executioner could not land a better." 
 
 "The wind does not take off caps from heads as easily as 
 these heads were taken off," said others. All shook hands 
 with Longin. He stood with downcast eyes, gentle and bash- 
 ful as a bride at her wedding, and modestly said as though 
 explaining it: "They were conveniently situated." 
 
 The crowd then examined the sword, but since it had ex- 
 traordinary width and length, none could handle it freely, 
 not even Father Jabkovski, though he could break a horse 
 shoe like a reed. 
 
 Around the tent the babel of voices increased. Volodiyov- 
 ski and Zagloba and Skshetuski received the visitors and en- 
 tertained them with stories, for the last biscuit in the camp 
 had been consumed and for a long time they had eaten no 
 other meat but horse-flesh. Wit, however, made up for food 
 and drink. At length when the others had commenced to dis- 
 perse, Marek, Sobieski, the Starosta of Krasnostavsk and his 
 lieutenant Stempovski approached. Pan Longin hurried out 
 to welcome him. Sobieski greeted him warmly, and said: 
 
 "So you are having a holiday to-day?" 
 
 "It is indeed a holiday," said Zagloba, "for our friend has 
 accomplished his vow." 
 
 "Praise be to God!" answered the chief, "then it will not 
 be long before we congratulate you, little brother, on your 
 marriage. Have you any one in view?" 
 
 Longin blushed with shame and confusion, but the chief 
 continued: 
 
 "I see by your embarrassment that it is so. It is your 
 sacred duty to keep in mind that such a stock should not die 
 out. God grant that on stones should be born such soldiers 
 as are you four gentlemen." 
 
 Then he shook hands with Longin, Skshetuski, Zagloba, 
 and the little knight. They were rejoiced to hear praise from 
 such lips, for Pan Krasnostavsk was a model of bravery, honor, 
 and all knightly virtues, he was a personified Mars. All the 
 gifts of God had been showered upon him, and In beauty he 
 surpassed even his younger brother, who later became king. 
 In nobility of birth, and in fortune he was equal to the first 
 
-.g WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 in the land, and his military acquirements were even praised 
 by the great Yeremy himself. In him would have arisen a 
 star of the first magnitude in the firmament of the Common- 
 wealth, but that by God's decree, the younger brother Yan 
 absorbed the glory, while he himself was dimmed before his 
 time in a day of disaster. The knights therefore were greatly 
 delighted at being praised by this hero. But he had not ended 
 yet, and continued: 
 
 "Prince Vishnyovyetski has spoken much of you to me, for 
 he loves you beyond all the others, and hence I do not wonder 
 that you serve him without seeking promotion, which comes 
 more readily in the service of the king." 
 
 Skshetuski replied to this: 
 
 "We are aU enrolled in the hussar regiment of the king, 
 with the exception of Zagloba, who from natural valor, serves 
 as a volunteer. That we serve under the prince is due to our 
 love for his person, and our desire to participate in as many 
 battles as possible." 
 
 "If you love fighting, then you have done well. Pan Longin 
 would have hardly found his three heads under any other 
 command," said the chief. "But as far as war in concerned 
 we all have had enough of it." 
 
 "More than of anything else," retorted Zagloba. 'Trom 
 early morning the soldiers have been coming hither with 
 praises, but if any one had brought us a bit of bread and a 
 drink of gorzalka, he would have pleased us best." 
 
 Then Zagloba looked meaningly into the eyes of the chief, 
 and blinked at him. The chief smiled and said: 
 
 "Since yesterday noon nothing has passed my lips; but 
 a swallow of gorzalka could, I think, be procured somewhere. 
 Will you gentlemen come with me?" 
 
 But Skshetuski, Longin and the Httle knight protested, 
 and began to scold Zagloba, who excused himself as well as 
 he was able. 
 
 "I did not intend to drop a hint," he said, "for I prefer to 
 give away something of my own, than to accept from another, 
 but when such an exalted person gives an invitation it would 
 be boorish to refuse." 
 
 "Come with me," said the chief, "for I like to be in pleas- 
 ant company, and as no firing is going on, we can seize the 
 occasion. I cannot invite you to lunch, for even horse-meat 
 is scarce now, but I have still two bottles of gorzalka, which 
 I do not intend to keep for myself." 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 749 
 
 The others still hesitated, but after being repeatedly urged, 
 they consented and went along. Pan Stempovski hurried be- 
 fore them and managed to find a few biscuits and some bits 
 of horse-meat. Zagloba cheered up wonderfully and said: 
 
 "May it please God that His Majesty the King, may come 
 to our aid, then we will at once make an attack upon the 
 wagon-loads of provisions that his militia bring with them. 
 They always carry a great number of delicacies, and all of 
 them care more for their stomachs than for the Common- 
 wealth. I would rather eat with them than have their as- 
 sistance in battle, but perhaps they may show greater valor 
 under the eyes of the king." 
 
 The chief grew serious. 
 
 "We have vowed," said he, "to fall one after the other, 
 rather than to surrender, and so it must be; we must prepare 
 for still harder times. The provisions are giving out, and 
 what it still worse, the powder is also. I would not say this 
 to others, but to you I can speak freely. Soon nothing will 
 be left to us but grim determination in our hearts, swords in 
 our hands, and the readiness to die. May it please God to 
 send us the king soon, for this is our last hope. The king is 
 a soldier, and to deliver us he would spare neither comfort nor 
 life, but his army is small, and you gentlemen know how 
 slowly the general militia move. And how should the king 
 know in what straits we are and that we are living upon 
 crumbs." 
 
 "We have resolved to sacrifice ourselves," said Skshetuski. 
 
 "But cannot we send word to the king?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "If we could find a man of such virtue as to undertake 
 to make his way to the king by stealing through the enemy's 
 camp," said the chief, "he would achieve immortal fame; he 
 would become the savior of the whole army, and would avert 
 grave disaster from our country. Even if all the forces have 
 not assembled yet, the mere knowledge that the king was 
 near might disperse the rebels. But who will go, who will 
 undertake it in face of the fact that Khmyelnitski has every 
 road so well guarded that not the smallest mouse could slip 
 through? An undertaking of this sort means certain death." 
 
 "But what have we wits for?" said Zagloba. "A good idea 
 strikes me already." 
 
 ''What is it, what is it?" asked the chief. 
 
 "Every day we are taking a number of prisoners, what 
 about bribing one of them? He could say that he had escaped 
 from us, and he could hurry on to the king." 
 
750 WITB PIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 "I will bring the idea before the prince/' said the chief. 
 
 Longin was deep in thought; his forehead was covered with 
 wrinkles; he sat silent. Suddenly he raised his head and 
 said, in his usual mild tone: 
 
 "I will undertake to steal through the Cossacks." 
 
 The knights sprang up in astonishment as they heard this. 
 Zagloba stood with his mouth open, Yolodiyovski twirled his 
 little moustache, Skshetuski grew pale, and Krasnostavsk, 
 striking his velvet vest, exclaimed: "You will undertake 
 this?" 
 
 "Hare you considered well what you say?" asked Skshetu- 
 ski. 
 
 "I have thought over it for some time," replied the Lithu- 
 anian, "for this is not the first time that the knights have 
 said 'if the king only knew of our condition!' And hearing 
 this, I said to myself, 'If God permits me to fulfill my tow I 
 will go at once!' I am but of small worth anyway, what vrould 
 it signify even should I perish on the way." 
 
 "But you will certainly perish,"' said Zagloba. "Do you 
 hear that the chief says it is sure death?" 
 
 "WTiat does that matter, little brother?" said Longin, "if it 
 please God He will guide me through in safety, if not. He 
 will reward me in Heaven." 
 
 "]\Ian alive, have you lost your senses?'" said Zagloba. 
 "First they will torture you and then put you to a horrible 
 death." 
 
 "Even so I will go, little brother," replied the Lithuanian 
 gently. 
 
 "A bird could not fly through without being pierced by an 
 arrow. They have surrounded us like a badger in a hole." 
 
 "Nevertheless, I will go,'' repeated the Lithuanian. "I owe 
 God thanks for allowing me to fulfill my vow." 
 
 "Look at him! examine him closely!" Zagloba cried in 
 desperation, "you might as well have your head cut off at 
 once and have it shot from a cannon over the camp, for this 
 is the only way you can get past them." 
 
 "Permit me, my friends, I pray you," said the Lithuanian, 
 clasping Kis hands. 
 
 "Oh, no! you shall not go by yourself, for I will go with 
 you,'' said Skshetuski. 
 
 "And I, too," added Yolodiyovski, striking his sword. 
 
 "The bullets strike you!" cried Zagloba, placing his hands 
 to his head, "may the bullets strike you for your 'I too, I too,' 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 751 
 
 for your audacity. They haven't seen enough blood yet, nor 
 of destruction, nor bullets! Is it not enough what is hap- 
 pening here? No, they want to be more certain of losing 
 their heads. 60 to the deuce and let me alone! May the 
 enemy kill you." .... ^ 
 
 Then he rushed around the tent as if mad. 
 
 "God is punishing me," he cried, "for associating with 
 whirlwinds, instead of living in the company of sensible men. 
 Well, it serves me right." 
 
 He paced the tent for some time in feverish excitement, 
 finally he stopped near Skshetuski, clasped his hands, and 
 looking into 'his eyes, began to snort with anger: 
 
 "Have I done you any wrong, that you are planning my 
 ruin?" 
 
 "God forbid!" answered the knight, "what do you mean?" 
 
 "I am not surprised that Longin gets such notions. He has 
 always had his wit in his fist instead of his head, and since he 
 chopped off the heads of the three biggest fools among the 
 Turks, he has become the fourth one — — •" 
 
 "That is not a nice thing to say," interrupted the Lith- 
 uanian. 
 
 "And I am not surprised at that fellow, either," said Zag- 
 loba, pointing at Volodiyovski; "he can jump on a Cossack's 
 boot or cling to his breeches like a burr to a dog's tail; he can 
 get through easier than any of us. Keither of them have been 
 enlightened by the Holy Spirit. But that you, instead of re- 
 straining their madness, spur them on by being willing to go 
 yourself; that you should desire to deliver all four of us over 
 to certain martyrdom; that is the worst blow of all. Fie! the 
 deuce take it, I did not expect such madness from an officer 
 whom the prince himself esteems as a sensible cavalier." 
 
 "How is that! all four?" asked Skshetuski, astonished, "will 
 you go, too?" 
 
 "Yes," cried Zagloba, thumping himself on his chest. "If 
 one of you go, or all go together, I will go too. My blood be 
 on your heads, next time I shall know with whom to associate. 
 This knowledge I have paid dearly for." 
 
 "0 that you would . . . . " said Skshetuski. The three 
 knights embraced him; but he was really angry and pushed 
 them from him with his elbows, saying: 
 
 "Go to the devil, I don't want your Judas kisses." 
 
 The thunder of cannons and muskets resounded from the 
 ramparts, Zagloba started and cried, "there you have it, there 
 you have it, now go," 
 
752 WITH FIRE A2}D SWORD. 
 
 "It is only ordinary firing, the testing of the guns," re- 
 marked Skshetuski. 
 
 "Ordinary firing," repeated Zagloba, mimicking him; "pray 
 is not this enough for you, half the army has melted away 
 under this ordinary firing, and these fellows now turn up their 
 noses at it." 
 
 "Be calm!" said Longin. 
 
 "Keep qiet, beet-soup-swiller!" roared Zagloba, "you are the 
 most guilty, you concocted the whole scheme, if no one is 
 mad, I am mad." 
 
 "But I shall go nevertheless, little brother," answered 
 Longin. 
 
 "You'll go, you'll go, and I know why, don't pretend to 
 be a hero, you are too well known for that; you are tired of 
 virtue, and you want to take it outside the ramparts and sell 
 it. You are nothing but a wench who takes her virtue to the 
 market. Fie on you! thaf s what you are, you do not really 
 desire to hasten to the king, you desire to roam through the 
 villages like a horse through the pasture, behold! a nice 
 knight, who offers his virtue for sale! Sheer bitterness! sheer 
 bitterness! as I love God." 
 
 ''It is shameful to listen to him," cried Longin, clapping his 
 hands over his ears. 
 
 "Stop this quarreling," said Skshetuski, earnestly. "Let us 
 speak about the business." 
 
 "In God's name!" said the chief, who had listened in as- 
 tonishment to Zagloba, "this is a matter of great importance, 
 but without the prince you cannot decide anything. There is 
 no need of further discussion. You gentlemen are in service 
 and obliged to obey orders. The prince is, I presume, in his 
 quarters, let us see what he thinks of your offer." 
 
 "Exactly what I think," remarked Zagloba, and hope 
 brightened his face. "Let us make haste." 
 
 They went on and passed through the square, where the 
 enemy's bullets were falling. The soldiers were on the ram- 
 parts, which, from a distance, looked like booths at a fair, 
 over fhem hung clothes of various colors and sheepskins, and 
 they were packed with wagons, portions of tents, and all 
 sorts of other articles that might serve as a protection against 
 the continuous volleys which for weeks had ceased neither 
 by night nor by day. Above these odds and ends appeared 
 a bluish line of smoke and behind them rows of soldiers in 
 red and yellow uniforms, working hard against the nearest 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 753 
 
 entrenchments of the enemy. The square looked like a heap 
 of ruins; the level space had been dug up with spades, 
 trampled by horses, and not a green blade of grass was 
 showing. Here and there were mounds of earth freshly 
 turned over about newly-made wells, remains of broken wag- 
 ons, cannon, barrels, or heaps of bones whitening in the sun. 
 No dead horses could be seen, for these were immediately 
 removed to serve as food for the soldiers, but everywhere 
 were heaps of rusty iron balls, which fell every day upon 
 this small bit of ground. At every step the horror and misery 
 of war was betrayed. On their way the knights met small 
 groups of soldiers, some carrying wounded or dead, others 
 hurrying to the ramparts to relieve their weary comrades. 
 The faces of all were blackened, sunken, unshaven; their eyes 
 were red and inflamed, their uniforms faded and torn, their 
 heads were covered with dirty rags instead of helmets and 
 caps, their weapons were broken. The thought forced itself 
 upon one, "when one or two weeks have passed what will 
 become of this little handful of victims?" 
 
 "You see, gentlemen," said the chief, "it is high time that 
 the king should know our condition." 
 
 "Famine is showing its teeth already like a dog," said the 
 little knight. 
 
 "What will happen when we have eaten up the horses?" 
 asked Skshetuski. 
 
 Conversing thus they reached the tent of the prince on • 
 the right side of the ramparts, in front of which stood a few 
 aides on horseback, whose duty it was to take the prince's 
 orders through the camp. The poor beasts, fed on dried 
 and chopped-up horse-flesh, and tortured by an incessant, 
 internal burning, reared continually and were unable to re- 
 main on one spot. This was the case with the horses of the 
 entire cavalry, which, when they went out against the enemy, 
 looked like a herd of griffins or hippo-centaurs, seeming to 
 be more in the air, than chasing along the ground. 
 
 "Is the prince within," asked the chief of one of the order- 
 lies. 
 
 "He is closeted with Pan Pshiyemski," answered the 
 orderly. 
 
 The chief entered without announcing himself, but the 
 four knights remained outside. After awhile the flap of 
 the tent was pushed aside and Pan Pshiyemski stuck his 
 head through the opening. "The prince wishes to see you 
 at once," he said. 
 48 
 
754 
 
 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 Zagloba entered the tent in good spirits, for he hoped that 
 the Prince would not consent to let his best knights go to 
 certain destruction; but he was mistaken, for ere they could 
 bow to him he said: 
 
 "Pan Krasnostavsk has told me of your readiness to go from 
 the camp and I accept your service. There is no sacrifice 
 too great for the country." 
 
 "We merely came to ask for your permission," said Skshe- 
 tuski, "for your Highness is master of our lives." 
 
 "I understand that all four of you wish to go." 
 
 "Your Highness," said Zagloba, ""they want to go, but 
 not I. God is my witness that I have not come here to 
 praise myself or to recall my services, and if I do so it is 
 merely to save me from the suspicion of being thoug'ht a 
 coward. Skshetuski, Yolodiyovski, and Pan Longin ilyshy- 
 kishki are great knights, but Burlay, who fell beneath my 
 hand (not to mention other deeds )was also a great warrior, 
 equal to Burdabut, Bohun, and the three heads of the janis- 
 saries. Therefore, as regards valor I do not stand behind 
 the others, but valor and madness are not to be confounded. 
 We have no wings and we can't get through on land that 
 is certain." 
 
 "You will not go then?" asked the prince. 
 
 "I said that I did not wish to go, not that I will not go. 
 Since God has punished me by making me their comrade, 
 . I must remain with them while I live. If things go badly 
 the sword of Zagloba will be of some service. But I fail to 
 comprehend how the death of the four of us can be of any 
 benefit, and I confide in your Highness to save us from it by 
 refusing to allow this insane expedition." 
 
 "You are a good comrade," replied the prince, "and it 
 proves your faithfulness that you do not wish to part with 
 your friends, but your confidence in me is misplaced, for 1 
 accept the offer." 
 
 "The dog is dead," muttered Zagloba, letting his hands 
 drop. 
 
 Firley the Castellan of Belsk now entered the tent. "Your 
 Highness," said he, "my men have just captured a Cossack 
 who says that there will be an assault to-night." 
 
 "I have already been informed of it," replied the prince, 
 "everything is ready, but let the work be hastened on the 
 ramparts." 
 
 "They are nearly finished." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 75^ 
 
 "Very well," said the prinoe, "before evening we will 
 occupy them." 
 
 Then he turned to the four knights: 
 
 "After the assauii, if the night is dark, will be the best 
 time to start out." 
 
 "Why," said the castellan of Belsk, "is your Gkace prepar- 
 ing a sally?" 
 
 "The sally is another matter," said the prince. "I myself 
 shall lead it, but now we are speaking of something else. 
 These gentlemen undertake to steal their way through the 
 enemy's camp and to notify the king about the condition of 
 affairs." 
 
 The castellan was dumbfounded, he opened wide his eyes 
 and stared at the knights in turn. The prince smiled with 
 pleasure. It was his weakness, he liked to have his soldiers 
 admired. 
 
 "In God's name," said the castellan, "are there s»ch brave 
 hearts in the world? God knows, gentlemen, I shall not 
 attempt to dissuade you from sio brave a deed." 
 
 Zagloba grew purple with rage, but he said nothing he 
 merely growled like a bear. The prince thought for a while 
 and said: "However, gentlemen, I do not want to waste 
 your blood in vain, and I will not consent to have all four 
 of you go together. First one shall go; should he be killed, 
 the enemy will not be backward in boasting about it, as they 
 had boasted about the death of my servant, whom they caught 
 near Lemberg. Should the first one be killed, the second 
 shall go, and then, in case of necessity, the third and fourth. 
 It may be that the first one will be fortunate enough to get 
 through, in such a case I do not wish to risk the lives of 
 the others." 
 
 "Your Highness," interrupted Skshetuski. 
 
 "This is my will and my command," said Yeremy, with 
 emphasis. "And that there may be no disagreement, I de- 
 clare that he shall go first who offered himself first." 
 
 "It was I," said Pan Longin, with a face beaming with 
 happiness. 
 
 "Then to-night after the assault, if the night be dark," 
 added the prince. "I shall send no letters to the king. Tell 
 what you have seen; take my signet ring as a credential." 
 
 Podbipyenta took the signet and bowed low before the 
 prince, who, placing his hands upon his head, kissed him 
 repeatedly upon the forehead, saying in a voice broken with 
 emotion: 
 
7^6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "You are as close to my heart as a brother. May the God 
 of Hosts and our Queen of Angels guide and protect you 
 through the enemy's lines, soldier of God, Amen." 
 
 "Amen," repeated the Starosta of Krasnostavsk, Pan Pshi- 
 Yemski, and the Castellan of Belsk. 
 
 The prince's eyes were swimming in tears, for he was a 
 true father to the knights. The others wept, and Podbipy- 
 enta shivered as of a fever, and a flame passed through his 
 bones; this pure, humble, heroic soul was greatly rejoiced 
 by the hope of the coming sacrifice. 
 
 "You will go down in history," cried the Castellan of Belsk. 
 
 "Not to us, not to us, but to Thy name Lord, let the 
 glory be given," repeated the prince. 
 
 The knights left the tent. 
 
 "Whew! Something seized me by the throat and chokes 
 me, and in my mouth is a taste as bitter as wormwood," 
 said Zagloba. "And over there (pointing to the smoking 
 earthworks of the Cossacks) they still keep on firing. . . . 
 Oh, that the lightning might strike you! Oh, it is a hard 
 life in this world! Longin, must you really go? May the 
 Holy Angels protect you! 0, that a plague might choke 
 those peasants!" 
 
 "I must leave you now," said Longin. 
 
 "Why, where are you going?"' asked Zagloba. 
 
 "To the priest Mukhovietski, to confession, my dear 
 friend. I must cleanse my sinful soul." 
 
 Then Podbipyenta hurried to the castle; the others turned 
 towards the ramparts. Skshetuski and Pan Michael were 
 silent, but Zagloba said: 
 
 "Something holds me by the throat. I did not think that 
 I should feel such sorrow for him, but he is the most vir- 
 tuous man in the world. If ever any one disputes this I'll 
 slap his snout for him. My God! my God! I thought the 
 castellan of Belsk would advise against this folly, but no, 
 he assisted the prince with his drum. The devil brought 
 us that heretic. 'You will go down in history,' he said. 
 'History will write of you.' Let it write of him, but not on 
 the skin of Longin. Why in the world does he not go him- 
 self? He has six toes on his feet like every Calvinist, and 
 therefore can run all the better. I tell you, gentlemen, that 
 it is getting worse and worse in this world, and no doubt 
 the priest Jabkovski prophecies correctly when he says that 
 the end of the world is near. Let us sit down awhile at the 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 757 
 
 ramparts, and then go to the castle in order to enjoy the 
 company of our friend, at least until evening." 
 
 But Longin spent the whole time after confession, and 
 communion, in prayer. He did not make his appearance 
 until evening, when the assault had begun. This was a 
 terrible assault, for the Cossacks attacked just when the 
 troops were transporting their artillery and wagons to the 
 newly made ramparts. It seemed for a time that the little 
 Polish army must succumb before the fierce onset of two 
 hundred thousand of the enemy. The Polish forces had be^ 
 come so mixed up with their foes that they could not dis- 
 tinguish their own and three times they closed in. Khmyel- 
 nitski put forth all his power, for the Khan and his own cap- 
 tains had told him that this must be the last assault, and 
 that henceforward they would content themselves with starv- 
 ing the besieged. But within three hours all attacks were 
 repulsed with suoh losses that later a report spread that forty 
 thousand of the enemy had fallen. So much is certain, that 
 after the battle, a great bundle of flags were brought to the 
 prince, and that this in reality was the last assault. But 
 harder times followed for the besieged, continuous firing, 
 undermining of their ramparts, loss of their wagons, suffer- 
 ing and famine. 
 
 Immediately after the assault the untiring Yeremy led his 
 weary troops to a sally, which completed the defeat of the 
 enemy. Quiet now reigned in the tabor and the camp. 
 
 The night was warm but cloudy. In the darkness four 
 men made their way carefully and quietly to the eastern end 
 of the ramparts. They were Longin, Zagloba, Skshetuski 
 and Pan Michael. 
 
 "Take good care of the pistols," whispered Skshetuski, 
 "lest they should get wet. » Two squadrons will be in readi- 
 ness all night. If you fire we shall rush to the rescue." 
 
 "It is confoundedly dark, nothing can be seen even by 
 straining the eyes," whispered Zagloba. 
 
 "So much the better," answered Longin. 
 
 "Keep still," interrupted Pan Michael. "I hear some- 
 thing." 
 
 "It is nothing, the rattle of a dying man." 
 
 "I would you were already near the oaks." 
 
 "0 Grod! my God!" sighed Zagloba, trembling as if in a 
 fever, "in three hours it will begin to dawn." 
 
 "Then it is time now," said Longin. 
 
yj8 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 "Yes, the time has come/' repeated Skshetusfci, with a 
 choking voice. "G-od be with you!" 
 
 "God be with you! God be with you!"' 
 
 ''Farewell, brothers, and forgive me if I have offended any 
 of you." 
 
 ''You offend! God!" exclaimed Zagloba, throwing him- 
 self into his arms. 
 
 Then Skshetuski and Pan Michael embraced him. For a 
 moment suppressed sobs shook the breasts of the knights. 
 Only Longia was calm althoiigh he was deeply affected. 
 
 "Farewell," he repeated once more, and going to the edge 
 of the rampart, he dropped into the ditch and after awhUe 
 appeared on the opposite bank. Once more he waved a fare- 
 well to his friends, and disappeared into the darkness. 
 
 Between the road to Zaloshtsits and the highway leading 
 from Vishnyovyets there was an oak grove, interspersed by 
 narrow meadows. Near by was an old and dense pine forest 
 which extended beyond Zaloshtsits It was towards this that 
 Longin attempted to make his way. 
 
 The way was very dangerous, for in order lo reach the 
 grove, he was obliged to pass all along the Cossack entrench- 
 ments. Longin, however, had purposely chosen this way, 
 for it was just around the camp, where people were con- 
 tinually passing to and fro throughout the night, that the 
 guards paid least attention to the passers by. All other roads, 
 ravines, thickets, and paths, were beset with guards who were 
 patrolled continually by sergeants, setniks. colonels, and even 
 by Khmyelnitski himself. A passage across the meadows, 
 along the Gniezna could not be thought of, for there the 
 Tartar herders kept guard over the horses from evening until 
 dawn. 
 
 It was a cloudy night, and so 'dark that nothing, neither 
 man nor tree, could be seen at a distance of ten steps. This 
 circumstance was favorable to Longin; though on the other 
 hand he was obliged to walk very slowly and carefully, lest 
 he should fall into one of the ditches or pits that covered 
 the entire battle-field and had been dug by Polish and Cos- 
 sack hands. In this manner he reached the second Polish 
 rampart that had been evacuated just before evening, and 
 after he had crossed the ditch, he crawled towards the en- 
 trenchments of the Cossacks. He stopped and listened, the 
 entrenchments were empty. The sortie made by Yeremy had 
 driven the enemy out, and they had either fallen, or had 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. j^g 
 
 fled to the wagon-train. A number of corpses lay upon the 
 slopes and tops of thai mounds. Longin stumbled every 
 moment over bodies as he picked his way over them. From 
 time to time a groan or a sigh indicated that life in some of 
 them was not extinct. 
 
 Beyond the ramparts was a spacious tract, extending to 
 the second trench, and this was also full of bodies. Here 
 there were still more holes and ditches, besides at a small 
 distance from each other, were earth shelters looking like 
 hayricks in the darkness. These were also deserted, and 
 everywhere the most profound silence reigned. Nowhere a 
 fire or a man were visible, no one on the entire plain except 
 the fallen. 
 
 Pan Longin started to pray for the souls of the deceased 
 and continued his journey. The sounds of the Polish camp, 
 which followed him to the second rampart, grew fainter and 
 fainter until they were lost in the distance. Pan Longin 
 stopped and looked back for the last time. 
 
 He could scarcely see anything for no light was burning 
 in the camp, only one little window of the castle twinkled 
 faintly like a star, or like a glow worm which gleams out and 
 darkens in turn. 
 
 "My brethren, shall I see you again in this life?" thought 
 Longin. 
 
 Sadness pressed upon him like a heavy stone, he could 
 hardly breathe. There where that little light was shining, 
 there were his friends, his brother hearts. Prince Yeremy, 
 Skshetuski, Pan Michael, Zagloba, the priest Mukhoviet&ki — 
 he was loved, there he would be gladly defended. But here- — • 
 night, desolation, darkness, corpses about his feet, looming ap- 
 paritions, before him the entrenchments of the blood thirsty, 
 accursed and pitiless enemy. 
 
 The weight of sadness pressed so heavily upon the shoul- 
 ders of this giant that his courage began to fail. 
 
 Dreadful alarm haunted him and whispered in his ear 
 "You can't get thrO'Ugh, it isn't possible. Return now, while 
 there is still time! discharge your pistol, an entire squadron 
 will hasten to yeur aid! Thi-ough those defenses, through 
 those savages, nothing can pass." 
 
 That starving camp hourly sprinkled with balUs, filled with 
 death, and the stenoh of corpses, appeared to Longin now 
 as a quiet, safe retreat. His friends there would not upbraid 
 him if he returned. He would tell them that the deed was 
 
76o WITH FIRE AyD SWORD. 
 
 beyond hinnan power, they themselves should not go, nor 
 should they send another, they would await further for the 
 mercy of God and the coming of the king. 
 
 But if Skshetuski should go nevertheless, and perish: 
 
 "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! these 
 are temptations of the devil," thought Longin. "I am pre- 
 pared to die and nothing worse can happen to me. Thus 
 Satan frightens the weak soul with desolation, djixkness, and 
 corpses, for he makes use of everything. Should a knight 
 heap shame upon himself, lose his fame, disgrace his name, 
 not save the army, renounce a celestial crown? Xever!"' 
 
 And he went on with his hands extended forward. 
 
 Now he again heard a noise, but not from the Polish camp, 
 but from the opposite side. It was still indistinct, but deep 
 and threatening like the growling of a bear who suddenly 
 awakens in a dark forest. But unrest had now left the soul 
 of the knight, sadness had ceased to oppress him and was 
 transformed into a sweet remembrance of his dearest friends. 
 At length, as if in answer to the threatening murmur that 
 came from the entrenchments, he repeated once more to 
 himself: 
 
 "But still I will go." 
 
 After some time he reached that part of the battle-field, 
 where on the day of the first assault, the prince's cavalry had 
 put the Cossacks and janissaries to flight. Here the way was 
 more even, there being fewer ditches, earth shelters, and 
 but few corpses, for the Cossacks had removed the dead that 
 had fallen in earlier struggles. It was clearer here too, 
 the ground was not so covered with obstacles. The land 
 sloped towards the south, but Longin at once turned towards 
 the flank, in order to creep through between the western 
 lake and the wagon train. 
 
 He could get over the ground now much faster, for there 
 were less impediments, and he had almost reached the line 
 of the wagon train, when a new noise attracted his attention. 
 
 He halted at once and after waiting for a quarter of an 
 hour he could distinguish the tramp and the breathing of 
 horses. "Cossack patrols," thought he. jSTow the voices of 
 men reached his ear. He sprang aside and as soon as he 
 felt a depression in the ground with his foot, he threw him- 
 self upon the earth and lay there motionless, holding his 
 pistol in one hand an,d his sword in the other. 
 
 The horsemen came still nearer and soon were right upon 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 761 
 
 him. It was so dark he could not count them, but he could 
 hear every word of their conversation. 
 
 ■'It is hard for them, but it is hard for us also," said one, 
 in a sleepy voice, "and how many good warriors have bitten 
 the dust." 
 
 "Queen of Heaven," said another voice. "They say the 
 king is not far away. . . . what will happen to us then?" 
 
 "The Khan is angered at our leader, and the Tartars are 
 threatening to put chains upon us." 
 
 "On the pastures they fight with our men. Our father 
 has forbidden us to enter the horse enclosures, for whoever 
 enters is lost." 
 
 "They say that among the market men are disguised Poles, 
 I wish that this war had never broken out." 
 
 "We are worse ofE now than before." 
 
 "The king is in the vicinity with the Polish army, that is 
 the worst of it." 
 
 "Hey! in Sich you would be sleeping at this hour, but here 
 you have to knock about in the darkness like a vampire." 
 
 "There must be vampires about, for the horses are snort- 
 ing." 
 
 The voices grew fainter and fainter in the distance until 
 they could be heard no more. Longin rose and went on. 
 
 A drizzling rain, fine as mist, came on; it grew still darker. 
 To the left of Longin at some distance off, there gleamed a 
 small light, then a second, a third, a tenth, and so on. Now 
 he was sure that he was on the line of the wagon train. The 
 little lights were set far apart and emitted but a feeble glim- 
 mer. Probably everybody was asleep, or perhaps here and 
 there some might be drinking or preparing food for the 
 morrow. 
 
 "Thank God that I came out after the assault and the sally. 
 They are no doubt tired unto death," said Longin to himself. 
 
 Scarcely had he said this, when he heard anewthe tramp- 
 ling of horses. It was another patrol. The ground about had 
 been torn up a good deal, so that it offered good hiding places. 
 The patrol passed by so near that he was almost run over. 
 Fortunately the horses were used to prostrate bodies and did 
 not become frightened. Longin went on. 
 
 Within a distance of about a thousand steps, he met two 
 more patrols. Evidently the whole entire circle about was 
 guarded like the apple of the eye, but Longin was only glad 
 thait he did not meet any of the infantry sentries, who are 
 
762 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 generally stationed before the wagon trains, in order to give 
 notice to the patrols. 
 
 His joy, however, was of short duration. He had hardly 
 gone ahead one furlong, when scarce ten steps in front of 
 him, a dark figure emerged. Longin, though of undaunted 
 courage, felt a slight chill pass through his body. It was too 
 late to retreat and to skirt around the sentinel. The figure 
 approached, he must have been noticed, a moment of hesita- 
 tion followed, then a husky voice asked: 
 
 "Vasil, is that you?" 
 
 "It is I," replied Longin. 
 
 "Have you the gorzalka?" 
 
 "Yes, I have it." 
 
 "Give it to me." 
 
 Longin approached him. 
 
 "AYhy are you so big?" asked the voice, in terror stricken 
 tones. 
 
 Something staggered in the darkness. A cry of "God " 
 
 instantly smothered, issued from the mouth of the guard. 
 Then a crunching was heard like that of breaking bones, a 
 rattling from the throat, and a figure fell noiselessly to the 
 ground. 
 
 Longin went on. 
 
 But he skirted about, as he had evidently struck a line of 
 patrol; he approached closer to the wagon train in order to 
 pass between the pickets and the line of wagons. If there was 
 no line of pickets here Longin could meet none but pickets 
 going out to relieve others, for there were no mounted patrols 
 here. 
 
 It was soon apparent that there was not a second line, the 
 line of wagons, however, was not further away than a couple 
 of bow shots. Strangely he seemed to be getting nearer to it, 
 although he attempted always to remain at an equal distance. 
 It was evident also that all were not asleep about here. He 
 could see groups sitting around smouldering fires. In one 
 place the fire was brighter, so bright that its gleam almost 
 discovered Longin, and he was obliged to retreat back towards 
 the pickets so as not to get into the belt of light. From a dis- 
 tance he could distinguish oxen suspended from posts near 
 the fire, which were being skinned by butchers. Groups of 
 men watched this proceeding; some were playing upon pipes: 
 it was evident that this was the part of the camp occupied bv 
 the drovers. The other rows- of wagons were hidden by the 
 darkness. 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 763 
 
 The line of the bulwark which was faintly illuminated again 
 appeared to get nearer to him. At first he had only had it 
 on his right, now he suddenly found it just in front of him. 
 
 He stopped and considered what was best to be done. The 
 bulwark and the camps of the Tartars and the "blacks" sur- 
 rounded Zbarajj like a ring, within thi-s ring sentries were 
 posted and patrols were moving about to see that no one 
 should pass. 
 
 Longin was in a terrible position. He would either have to 
 creep through between the wagons or seek another way be- 
 tween the Cossacks and the Tartars. Otherwise he would have 
 to roam about the outer circle until dawn, or return to Zbaraj. 
 But even in the latter case he might fall into the hands of 
 the enemies. He understood, however, that one wagon could 
 not be crowded up closely to another because of the nature of 
 the ground. There ought to be considerable openings; be- 
 sides such openings were necessary for intercourse and exit. . . 
 Longin determined to look for such a passage and so again 
 approached the row of wagons. The light of fires burning 
 here and there might betray him, but on the other hand they 
 were useful, for without them, he could see neither the wagons 
 nor the passage ways between them. 
 
 After searching carefully for about a quarter of an hour, 
 he found such a passage-way and readily recognized it, for it 
 looked like a black belt. There were no fires on it and there 
 could be no Cossacks, for this was a road that must be left 
 for the horsemen. Longin got on all fours and commenced to 
 creep along that dark opening like a snake into its hole. 
 
 A quarter of an hour; a half hour passed, and he was still 
 creeping, praying, and commending his body and soul to the 
 protection of heaven. He called to mind that the fate of 
 Zbaraj depended on his passing through this gully. He prayed 
 not only for himself, but also for those who at the moment 
 were praying within the ramparts for him. All was quiet on 
 both sides of him. No one stirred, not a horse snorted, not a 
 dog barked, and Longin luckily crept through. Before him 
 he already saw dark bushes, behind which was the oak grove, 
 and beyond that the forest continued as far as Toporova; be- 
 yond the forest was the king, safety, glory, and merit, in the 
 eyes of God and man. What was the stroke by which he cut 
 off three heads in comparison to this deed which required 
 something else than an iron hand. 
 
 Longin felt the difference, but his clean heart was not 
 
-6^ WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 swelled by pride, Hke that of a child it melted in tears of 
 thankfulness. 
 
 Then he arose from the ground and walked on, beyond the 
 wagons there were but few pickets; if any, those could be 
 easily avoided. It began to rain harder and the rain pattering 
 upon the bushes, drowned his footsteps. He let his long legs 
 out and went on like a giant, trampling everything in his way; 
 each step was equal to five of an ordinary man. The wagons 
 were left further in the distance, the oak grove drew ever 
 nearer, and in it was salvation. 
 
 The oaks were at hand, beneath them it was as dark as 
 under the earth; but so much the better. A light breeze 
 sprang up. The oaks rustled as if breathing a prayer, "Al- 
 mighty God! Gracious Godi preserve this Imight! for he is 
 Thy servant and a faithful son of the land on which we have 
 grown with Thy glory." 
 
 One mile and a half separated Longin from the Polish 
 camp. Perspiration covered his brow, for the air was pecu- 
 liarly sultrj-, as if a storm were gathering; but he hurried on 
 regardless of the storm, for the angels were singing in his 
 heart. The grove became thinner, and this meant the first 
 meadow was close by. The oaks rustled louder, as if they 
 wished to say, "Wait awhile yet, you are safe with us." Biit 
 the knight has no time and steps out iato the open meadow. 
 A solitary oak, taller than the rest, stands in the centre, to- 
 wards this Longin moves. 
 
 Suddenly, when he was but a few steps away from the giant 
 oak, about twenty dark figures rushed out foom beneath its 
 branches, and sped like wolves towards the knight. 
 
 '"Who are you, who are you?" 
 
 Their language was unintelligible. The covering of their 
 heads were pointed. 
 
 These were Tartar herders, who had sought shelter here 
 from the rain. 
 
 At that moment red lightning illumined the field, revealing 
 the oak, the wild figures, and the gigantic knight. A terrible 
 cry rent the air, in a moment the battle began. 
 
 The Tartars threw themselves at Longin like wolves at a 
 deer, and clutched him with their sinewy hands; but he only 
 shook himself, and his assailants fell from him as ripe fruit 
 from a tree. Then his terrible sword, "Cowl-cutter," flew 
 from its sheath, and soon resounded groans, howls, shouts for 
 help, the whistling of the sword, the cries of the wounded, 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 765 
 
 the neighing of horses, and the crash of broken Tartar sabres. 
 The quiet field echoed with all the wild sounds that can be 
 uttered by the human throat. 
 
 The Tartars hurled themselves in packs at the knight, but 
 he leaned his back against the oak, and defended himself in 
 front with his whirling sword, which cut and slashed in a 
 terrible manner. Bodies lay stretched at the feet of the 
 knight, the others fell back panic stricken. 
 
 "A div! a div!" they howled out in terror. 
 
 The howling was not in vain. Scarce a half hour passed be- 
 fore the whole meadow was filled with people afoot and on 
 horseback. Cossacks an 1 Tartars flocked with scythes, clubs, 
 bows, poles, and burning pitch pine. Excited questions begaji 
 to fly from mouth to mouth. "What is the matter, what has 
 happened?" "A div!" answered the herders. "A div!" re- 
 peated the crowd, "a Pole, a monster, beat him, take him 
 alive, alive." 
 
 Longin fired two shots from his pistol, but the distance 
 was too great for them to be heard from the Polish camp. 
 Now the crowd approached him in a semi-circle, he stood in 
 the shadow of the tree, looming like .a giant, with his back 
 against its trunk, and waited, his sword in his hand. The 
 crowd came nearer and nearer. Finally a voice of command 
 called out: 
 
 "Seize him!" 
 
 All who had not bitten the dust rushed at him; the shout- 
 ing ceased; those who could not get at him held lights for 
 the assailants. A confused crowd of men struggled beneath 
 the tree, groans arose and for a time it was impossible to dis- 
 tinguish anything. Finally a cry of terror arose from the as- 
 sailants. The crowd dispersed in a moment. 
 
 Beneath the tree stood Pan Longin alone, and at his feet a 
 crowd of bodies quivering in their death throes. 
 
 "Eopes, ropes!" shouted a voice. 
 
 Several horsemen flew away and in a moment brought back 
 ropes. Then a number of strong men seized a long rope by 
 both ends and tried to tie Longin to the tree; but he slashed 
 with his sword and the men on both sides fell to the ground. 
 A second attempt was followed by the same result. 
 
 Perceiving that too many men in a crowd only get in each 
 other's way, a number of the boldest Fogais tried again to 
 capture the giant alive; but he rent them like a wild boar 
 rends the attacking dogs. The oak, which consisted of two 
 
766 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 mighty trees that had grown together, protected the knight 
 in its central depression; whoever in front got within ranage 
 of his sword died without uttering a groan. The superhuman 
 strength of Longin seemed to increase with each moment. 
 Seeing this the maddened hordes drove away the Cossacks 
 and all round resounded a wild cry: 
 
 "Bows, bows!" 
 
 When he saw the bows, and the arrows poured out from 
 their quivers at the feet of his assailants, Longin recognized 
 that the hour of his death had arrived, and he began to say 
 the litany of the most Holy Virgin. 
 
 Silence fell, the crowd held its breath in expectation of 
 what would happen. The first arrow whizzed forth just as 
 Longin repeated "Mother of the Redeemer," and it grazed his 
 temple, another arrow flew forth as Longin said "0 Blessed 
 Virgin," and it stuck fast in his shoulder. The words of the 
 litany mingled with the whizzing of the arrows and when 
 Longin had said "Star of the morning" arrows were sticking 
 in his shoulders, in his sides, and legs. Blood oozing from a 
 wound in his temple flowed over his eyes; he saw as through a 
 mist, the meadow, and the Tartars. Presently he heard no 
 longer the whizzing of arrows; he felt that his strength was 
 forsaking him, that his legs were bending beneath him: his 
 head dropped on his breast. For the last time he fell on his 
 knees. Then he said in a half groan, "Queen of the Angels," 
 and these were his last words on earth. 
 
 The hosts in heaven received his soul and placed it as a 
 translucent pearl at the feet of the Queen of the Angels. 
 
THIS IS THE SECOND. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 On the next morning Pan Volodiybvski and Zagloba were 
 standing on the ramparts among the soldiers, looking atten- 
 tively towards the hostile camp, from whence a dense mass 
 was approaching. Skshetuski was in consultation with the 
 prince; but they took advantage of this moment of peace to 
 speak about the events of the preceding day and about the 
 present movements in the enemy's camp. 
 
 "That is not a good omen," said Zagloba, pointing at the 
 black mass that moved along like a gigantic cloud. "They 
 surely come to the assault again and here the hands are stiff." 
 
 "They will scarce think of making an assault in broad day- 
 light and at this time," said the little knight, "all they will do 
 will be to take possession of our rampart of yesterday, under- 
 mine the new one, and fire upon us from morning until 
 evening." v 
 
 "We could easily decimate them with the cannon." 
 
 Pan Michael lowered his voice and answered: "The powder 
 is getting scarce. I have heard it will not sufB.ce for six days 
 if we use as much as we have lately. But the king will surely 
 be here before that." 
 
 "I care not what happens, if only our poor Longin gets 
 through all right. I could not sleep all night for thinking of 
 him; and whenever I fell into a doze I saw him in danger and 
 was so alarmed that I perspired all over. He is the best man 
 that can be found in the Commonwealth, even if you looked 
 all over the land with a lantern for three years and six Sun- 
 days." 
 
 "But why did you always turn him into ridicule ?" 
 
 "Because my mouth is dirtier than my heart. Don't make 
 my heart bleed with recollections, dear Michael, for I have 
 reproached myself enough already, and God forbid that any 
 disaster befall Pan Longin, for I would find no peace till the 
 day of my death." 
 
 "You must not grieve so long. He never was angered at 
 
 767 
 
-68 WITH FIRE ASD SWOBD. 
 
 you and I often heard him say 'an evil mouth, but a golden 
 heart.' " 
 
 "Grod give health to this good friend! He never knew how 
 to tali, but his great virtue made up a hundredfold for this 
 deficiency. What do you think. Pan Michael, wiH he get 
 through all right?" 
 
 "The night was dark and the peasants were tired and worn 
 out after the defeat. Our sentinels were not in good condi- 
 tion, theirs must have been much less so." 
 
 "Praise be to God! I asked Longin to find out whether our 
 poor princess had been seen anywhere, for I think Jendzian 
 must have escaped with her to the royal army. Longin will 
 hardly take a rest, and will surely come here with the king. 
 In that ease we shall soon hear of her." 
 
 "I put faith in the wit of that fellow Jendzian, and I trust 
 that in some manner he has saved her. Should she have per- 
 ished I could never be happy again in this life. I only knew 
 her for a short time, but had I one I could not love a sister 
 more." 
 
 "She was a sister to you, but to me a daughter. These cares 
 will doubtless make my beard as white as snow, and break my 
 heart. Hardly do you learn to love anybody, when, one, two, 
 three, and that one is gone. And all +^at is left for you is to 
 sit and worry, and grieve, and torment yourself, and brood, 
 going about with an empty stomach and a cap full of holes, 
 through which water falls upon your bald pate as through a 
 poorly-thatched roof. Dogs are better off in the Common- 
 wealth nowadays than the nobles, and we four are the worst 
 off of all. It is time to go to a better world. Pan Michael. 
 "OTiat do you think?" 
 
 "llore than once I have wondered whether it would not 
 be better to tell Skshetuski everything. But I am restrained 
 from doing so because he never mentions her name, and if 
 any one happens to mention it he starts as if his heart had 
 been pierced." 
 
 "Tell him all about it now; open the wounds that have 
 healed in this fire of war, leaving but a scar behind, while 
 now, perhaps, some Tartar is dragging her by the hair over the 
 Perekop. I see wax-tapers (funeral) when I think of such an 
 end. It is about time to die; it cannot be otherwise; for there 
 is nothing on earth but aifliction. If only Pan Longin has a 
 happy escape!" 
 
 "Heaven must favor him more than others, for he is vir- 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 769 
 
 tuous. But look! what is the rabble doing over yonder? The 
 sun is so dazzling to-day that I can't see." 
 
 "They are digging under our newly made rampart of yes- 
 terday." 
 
 "I said that there would be an assault. Let us depart, Pan 
 Michael, we have stood here long enough." 
 
 "They are not digging in order to make an assault at all 
 events; they must make an open road for retreat, and they will 
 probably bring up their engines on which their gunners are 
 stationed; Just see how their spades are flying; already they 
 have leveled the ground for about forty paces." 
 
 "Now I see, though the glare is dazzling to-day." 
 
 Zagloba covered his eyes with his hand and looked atten- 
 tively. The blacks rushed through the cut dug into the ram- 
 part and immediately spread over the bare space between the 
 ramparts. Some began to fire at once, others, digging up the 
 ground, began to heap up a new rampart to enclose the Polish 
 camp with a third ring. 
 
 "Oh, ho!" exclaimed Pan Michael, "did I not say so? They 
 are rolling up the engines already." 
 
 "Well then, the assault will be very lively. Let us go," 
 said Zagloba. 
 
 "No, these are another kind of engines," said the little 
 knight. 
 
 Indeed the machines that had appeared in the opening 
 were built upon a different plan from the usual kind. Their 
 walls consisted of ladders fastened with hasps and covered 
 with cloths and skins; behind these from the middle of the 
 machine up to the top the best marksmen were ensconced. 
 
 "Let us go, let those dogs worry on," exclaimed Zagloba. 
 
 "Wait awhile," replied Yolodiyovski. 
 
 He began to count the engines in order, noting each new 
 one as it appeared in the opening. 
 
 "One, two, three .... it is evident that they have quite 
 a number .... four, five, six ... . they are still coming 
 .... seven, eight .... they will kill every dog on the 
 square, for those must be their best marksmen .... nine, 
 ten .... each one stands out distinctly for the sun shines 
 upon them .... eleven . . . . " 
 
 Suddenly Pan Michael ceased counting. 
 
 "What is that?" he asked in a voice of astonishment. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "There upon the highest one .... a man is hanging." 
 
 49 
 
770 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 Zagloba strained his ej'es. Indeed the sun was shtoing 
 upon the body of a man dangling by a rope from the highest 
 engine, and swaying to and fro with its motion. 
 
 "True.'" said Zagloba. 
 
 Pan Michael suddenly became as pale as linen and cried out 
 in accents of terror: 
 
 "Almighty God! It is Podbipyenta!" 
 
 A murmur rose on the ramparts as when a wind blows 
 through a forest. Zagloba bent his head, covered his eyes 
 with his hand, and with blue lips groaned out: 
 
 •'Jesus Maria! Jesus ilaria!" 
 
 Xow the murmur changed into a babel of confused words, 
 and then into a roar like storming waves. The soldiers on 
 the ramparts saw that on that rope of infamy was hanging 
 Pan Longin Podbipyenta, the sharer of their misfortune, the 
 spotless knight. And anger, terrible anger, caused the hair of 
 the soldiers to stand on end. 
 
 Zagloba at last took his hands from his eyes. He was fear- 
 ful to look upon. His face was blue, his eyes were protruding 
 and he foamed at the mouth. 
 
 ''Blood! bloodl" he roared, with so terrible a voice, that a 
 shiver passed through the bystanders. 
 
 He sprang into the ditch. Ever^'thing alive upon the ram- 
 parts plunged after him. Xo power on earth, not even the 
 command of the prince could have restrained this outburst of 
 fury. They climbed out of the ditch, scrambling over each 
 other, seizing with their hands and teeth the bank of the 
 ditch, and when one was over he rushed ofE blindly, not look- 
 ing to see if others followed. 
 
 The infernal engiius were smoking like pitch-ovens, and 
 shook with the thunder of discharges. But this did not deter 
 the assailants. Zagloba rushed ahead, swinging his sword over 
 his head and ragtag like a mad bull. The Cossacks sprang 
 against the assailants with flails and scythes. It seemed as 
 if two walls were tumbling over each other with a tremendous 
 crash. But the well-fed pack of hounds could not defend 
 themselves long against the hungry and maddened wolves. 
 Thrust from their places, cut with swords, torn with teeth, 
 crushed and beaten, the Cossacks could not withstand the 
 furious onslaught. Confusion set in and they fled to the open- 
 ings. Zagloba, raging, rushed into the densest crowd like a 
 lioness whose cubs have been stolen. He was snorting with 
 rage and he struck down and trampled upon those that op- 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 771 
 
 posed him; he cleared a way about himself, and nearby like 
 another destroying flame came Volodiyovski, wild as a wound- 
 ed leopard. 
 
 The marksmen, entrenched in the engines, were cut to 
 pieces; the others were driven to the opening in the ramparts. 
 Then the soldiers mounted the engine and untying the body 
 of Pan Longin, they lowered it carefully to the ground. 
 
 Zagloba threw himself upon the corpse. . . Volodiyovski's 
 heart was also bleeding, and he wept bitterly at thfe sight of 
 his dead friend. It was easy to see in what manner Pan 
 Longin had perished, for his whole body was covered with 
 little holes made by the points of arrows. But the face was 
 not disfigured, save for the wound on the temple, that an 
 arrow had made. The few drops of blood had dried up on 
 his cheeks, his eyes were closed, and on his pale face was a 
 peaceful smile. Had it not been for the bluish tint on his 
 face and the rigor of death upon his features, it might have 
 seemed that Pan Longin was sleeping peacefully. His com- 
 rades bore him to the ramparts and thence into the chapel 
 of the castle. 
 
 By evening a coffin was made, and the funeral took place at 
 night in the churchyard of Zbaraj. All the clergy of Zbaraj 
 were present, except the priest Jabkovski, who had been shot 
 in the back during the last assault and was at the point of 
 death. The prince came also, having for the time being trans- 
 ferred the command to the Chief of Krasnostavsk. There 
 were present also the commanders, the crown ensign, the en- 
 sign of Fovogorad, Pshiyemski,' Skshetuski, Volodiyovski, 
 Zagloba, and all the companions-in-arms of the squadron in 
 which the dead man had served. The coffin was placed by the 
 newly-made grave, and the ceremony began. 
 
 The night was calm and starlit. The torches threw their 
 liirht upon the yellow boards of the hastily-made coffin, upon 
 the figure of the priest, and upon the set faces of the knights 
 standing about. 
 
 The smoke rising from the censors filled the air with the 
 odor of myrrh and juniper. The silence was broken only by 
 the stifled sobs of Zagloba. The deep sighs that issued from 
 the strong breasts of the knights, and the distant thunder of 
 cannon on the ramparts. 
 
 Now the priest Mukhovietski raised his hand to indicate his 
 desire to speak, the knights therefore held their breath. He 
 was silent for a moment, then he fixed his eyes upon the star- 
 studded firmament and spoke as follows: 
 
7-2 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 " 'What knocking do I hear at night on the gate of Heaven?' 
 asks the hoary warden of Christ's kingdom, awakened from 
 sweet slumber. 'Open, Holy Peter, open, it is I, Podbip- 
 yenta/ " 
 
 "But what rank, what deeds, what merits, can Podbip- 
 yenta bolden thee to trouble the venerable door-keeper? By 
 what right dost thou wish to enter there when neither birth, 
 though even as high as thine, nor senatorial dignity, nor royal 
 oflBces, nor majesty, nor ever royal purple, is allowed free 
 entrance; where one cannot drive on the broad road ia a 
 chariot and six, surrounded by haiduks, but must clamber by 
 the narrow and thorny path of virtue?" 
 
 "Ah, open. Holy Peter, open quickly, for by Just such a 
 narrow path wandered our mess-mate and dear brother Pan 
 Podbipyenta till he at last appeared before you; came naked 
 like Lazarus, pierced by Pagan arrows like the holy Sebastian, 
 poor like Job, pure as a virgin who has never known a man, 
 pure as a lamb, patient and silent, without a blemish of sin, 
 with the sacrifice of his blood, shed gladly for his earthly 
 fatherland. Admit him. Holy Peter, for if not him then 
 whom wilt thou admit, in these times of corruption and god- 
 lessness? Admit him. Holy Peter, admit this innocent lamb 
 and let him graze on the heavenly pasture; let him crop its 
 grass, for he has come hungry from Zbaraj. ..." 
 
 In this manner the priest Mukhovietski commenced his dis- 
 course, and then he depicted the whole life of Longin with 
 such eloquence that everyone felt wicked in the presence of 
 the silent cofBn that bore the spotless knight, who had sur- 
 passed the lowliest in modesty and the greatest in virtue. All 
 struck their breasts and a constantly-growing sorrow oppressed 
 them, as they recognized more clearly what a paroxysm had 
 seized the Fatherland and how irretrievably Zbaraj had lost. 
 The priest continued in inspired words, and when he de- 
 scribed how Longin had left the camp and died the death of 
 a martw, he forgot his rhetoric and quotations, and when he 
 addressed farewell words to the remains of the hero, in the 
 name of the clergy, the commanders, and the army, he burst 
 into tears, and sobbing like Zagloba, continued: 
 
 "Farewell, brother! farewell, comrade! not to an earthly, 
 but a celestial King, to the surest tribunal, dost thou bear our 
 lamentations, our hunger, our misery, our sufEering and op- 
 pression. Thou wilt there more surely effect our deliverance, 
 but thou wilt return no more; therefore do we weep, therefore 
 
WltB FIRE AND SWOBD. 773 
 
 do we wet thy coffin with tears, for we loved thee, dearest 
 brother." 
 
 All shed tears with the worthy priest, the prince, the com- 
 manders, the soldiers, and, most of all, the friends of the 
 deceased. But when the priest began to intone "requiem 
 aeternam dona ei Dominel" there arose a general chorus of 
 sobs, though all were strong and accustomed to the sight of 
 death. ' 
 
 When the coffin was placed upon the ropes it was hard to 
 tear Zagloba away, he clung to it as if a brother, or his father, 
 lay dead within it. At last Skshetuski and Volodiyovski suc- 
 ceeded in dragging him away. The prince stepped up to the 
 coffin and took up a handful of earth; the priest began to say 
 "Anima ejus ..." the ropes were let down, the earth began 
 to fall upon the coffin, being thrown down from the hands and 
 helmets of the bystanders; soon above the remains of Pan 
 Longinus Podbipyenta there arose a high mound, upon which 
 the moon shed its pale, sad light. 
 
 The three friends returned from the town to the square, 
 from whence came the incessant noise of battle. They walked 
 in silence which none of them wished to break. Other groups 
 discussed the dead hero and gave him unstinted praise. 
 
 "Even the funeral of Sierakovski was not more imposing 
 than this," said an officer passing near Skshetuski. 
 
 "Well, he deserved it," answered another officer, "who else 
 would have undertaken to get through to the king?" 
 
 "I heard that among the soldiers of Vishnyovyetski some 
 volunteers offered their services," added a third officer, "but 
 after such an awful example they will probably change their 
 minds." ' 
 
 "The thing is impossible, a snake could hardly creep 
 through." 
 
 "As true as I live it would -be sheer madness." 
 
 The officers passed on. Silence reigned again, then sud- 
 "denly Pan Michael spoke. 
 
 "Did you hear what they said, dear Yan?" 
 
 "I did," answered Skshetuski, "it is my turn to-day." 
 
 "Yan," said Pan Michael, earnestly, "you have known me 
 for a long time and know that danger does not frighten me. 
 But danger is one thing and suicide quite another!" 
 
 "And you say this, Michael?" 
 
 "I do, for I am your friend." 
 
774 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "And I am your friend also — give me your word of honor 
 that you will not go as a third if I should fall.'' 
 
 "No, I cannot do that," exclaimed Pan Volodiyovski. 
 
 "See then, Michael! how can you ask something of me that 
 you would not do yourself? Gods will be done!" 
 
 "Then let me go with you." 
 
 "The prince has prohibited that, not I. You are a soldier 
 and therefore must obey." 
 
 Pan Michael was silenced, for in fact he was above every- 
 thing a soldier. He twisted his moustaches excitedly. Finally 
 he said "the night is very bright, don't go to-night." 
 
 "I wish that it was darker," answered Skshetuski, "but 
 delay cannot be thought of. As you see. the weather has 
 become clear and is liable to remain so. We are in the direst 
 need of powder and provisions. The soldiers are digging in 
 the square for roots, the gums of some of them are already 
 rotting from the rubbish they are eating. I go to-night, at 
 once, I have already bidden farewell to the prince." 
 
 "You are a desperate man, I see." 
 
 Skshetuski smiled sadly, "enough of this. Pan ilichael, I 
 pray. I am not indeed swimming in delight, but I shall not 
 seek death voluntarily, for that is a sin. Anyway it is not 
 a question of dying, but of getting to the king and saving the 
 camp." 
 
 A violent desire suddenly seized Volodiyovski to tell 
 Skshetuski all about the princess; he had already opened his 
 lips when he thought: "The news would turn his head and 
 he would fall an easier prey to the enemy." He therefore 
 bit hi> tongue and checked himself and said instead, "which 
 way are you going to choose?" 
 
 "I told the prince that I should go over the pond and then 
 along the river until I got beyond the enemy's camp. The 
 prince thought also that this was the best way." 
 
 "I see that there is nothing. else to be done." Pan ilichael 
 replied. "We can only die once and it is more honorable to 
 die on the battle-field than in bed. God guide you! God 
 guide you, Yani, if we do not meet again in this world we 
 shall meet above and I shall always keep my friendship for 
 you." 
 
 "So shall I mine for you, may God reward you for all ; our 
 good deeds. And listen, ^Michael; if I perish they will hardly 
 exhibit me as they did Longin, for they received too severe 
 a lesson, but they will be sure to make it known, and in that 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. yyc 
 
 case let old Zatvilikhovski go to Khmyelnitski for my body, 
 for I would not have it dragged by dogs about the enemy's 
 camp." 
 
 "Eest assured of that," answered Pan Michael. 
 
 Zagloba who at first had not listened attentively to the 
 conversation, now realized what is was about, but he did 
 not have the strength to dissuade Skshetuski from the 
 hazardous enterprise, he only groaned in sorrow: 
 
 "Yesterday one, to-day another, my God! my God! ..." 
 
 "Trust in God!" said Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Yani . . " began Zagloba. 
 
 But he could say nothing further. He merely leaned his 
 hoary, careworn head upon the breast of the knight and 
 clung to him like a helpless child. 
 
 An hour later Skshetuski entered the water of the western 
 pond. 
 
 The night was very bright and the middle of the lake 
 gleamed like a silver shield. Skshetuski was soon lost to 
 sight owing to a dense growth of bullrushes and reeds upon 
 the shore; further in, where the reeds were scarcer, there 
 was a luxuriant growth of pond-lilies and other water-plants. 
 This mixture of wide and narrow leaves, slimy stalks, and 
 snake-like stems, winding themselves about Skshetuski's legs 
 and body to the waist, made it exceedingly difficult for him 
 to advance, but nevertheless it concealed him from the 
 sentries. To swim across the pond's bright centre could not 
 be thought of, for any dark object would have been easily 
 seen. Skshetuski therefore determined to skirt around the 
 shore of the pond to the swamp at the other side, through 
 which the river flowed into the pond. Sentries of the Cos- 
 sacks and Tartars were likely to be there, but on the other 
 hand a whole forest of weeds grew there, only the edge of 
 which had been cut down to make huts for the "blacks." 
 It was possible to creep through this marsh even in daytime, 
 unless some places should be too shallow. But it was a 
 dreadful way. Beneath the stagnant water not more than a 
 yard from the shore, the mud was deep, and with every 
 step that Skshetuski took, bubbles rose to the surface of the 
 water, the noise of which could be distinctly heard in the 
 stillness; besides, in spite of the slowness of his movements 
 ripples formed about him and spread to the open water where 
 the moonlight was reflected. Had it been raining Skshe- 
 tuski could have swam straight across the pond and reached 
 
7y6 WITH FIRE Ayo SWORD. 
 
 the swamp within half an hour at the utmost, but there was 
 not a cloud in the sky. Broad streams of greenish light fell 
 upon the pond transforming the leaves of the water-plants 
 into shields of silver, and the tufts of reeds to silvery spears. 
 No breeze was stirring. Fortunately the gurgling of the 
 bubbles was drowned by the uproar of the guns. Skshetuski, 
 observing this, moved forward only when the discharges on 
 the ramparts and in the trenches were at their liveliest. But 
 this calm, clear night had another difficulty in store; swarms 
 of mosquitoes rose from the reeds, formed a cloud aboiit his 
 head, lighting on his face, and eyes, stinging him, buzzing 
 about him, and humming their melancholy vespers. Skshe- 
 tuski was not unaware of the difficulties of his way when he 
 selected this road, but he had not foreseen all of them. He 
 did not foresee its terrors. Any depth of water, however 
 familiar, has at night something mysterious and terrifying 
 about it and invites the unwelcome question: 'IVhat is con- 
 cealed at the bottom?" This pond of Zbaraj was positively 
 terrible. The water in it seemed thicker than ordinary -water. 
 The stench of corpses emanated from it. which came from the 
 hundreds of Cossacks and Tartars whose bodies were decom- 
 posing in the water. Though on both sides dead bodies had 
 been pulled ashore, yet who could tell how many had been 
 left hidden among the reeds and thick bulrushes? Though 
 Skshetuski w^s embraced by the cool water, perpiration 
 rolled down his forehead. What if suddenly a pair of slippery 
 wet arms should embrace him, or a pair of greenish eves 
 should gaze at him from under the water-plants? The long 
 stalks of the water-lilies wound about his knees and his hair 
 stood on end, for he thought that he felt the embrace of 
 a drowned man who grasped him so as not to let him loose 
 again. "Jesus Alarial Jesus Maria!" he murmured contin- 
 ually, pushing himself forward. From time to time he 
 lifted his eyes heavenward and felt comforted at the sight 
 of the moon, the stars, and the serene sky. "There is a God," 
 he repeated to himself in an undertone, so that he could 
 hear himself. At times he looked at the shore and then it 
 seemed to him as if he were looking out from some cursed, 
 infernal world full of mud, swamps, black depths, pale moon- 
 light, ghosts, corpses and night upon God's earth. A j'earn- 
 ing seized him to flee at once from that network of reeds to 
 the shore. 
 
 But he pushed on further and further along the shore 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. jjy 
 
 and was already bo far away from the camp, that upon God's 
 world several paces from the shore, he saw a Tartar on horse- 
 back. He stopped and looked at him observingly and, judg- 
 ing from the way that the figure nodded with a uniform 
 motion towards the neck of the horse, he presumed that he 
 was asleep. It was a strange sight, the Tartar nodding con- 
 tinually as if silently bowing to Skshetuski, who kept his 
 eyes glued upon him. There was something awful in this, 
 but Skshetuski breathed more freely, for in the presence of 
 this manifest danger, imaginary ones that were a hundred 
 times harder to bear, disappeared. The world of ghosts 
 vanished, the knight at once regained his sang froid; ana 
 such thoughts as these crowded into his head: ''Is he 
 asleep or not, shall I go on or shall I wait?" 
 
 Finally he went on, making his way even more carefully 
 than at the beginning of his journey. He had gone half 
 way to the swamp in the river, when the first breath of a 
 light wind arose. Soon the reeds A^ere swaying and striking 
 against one another, and giving forth a rustling sound. 
 Skshetuski was relieved, for in spite of all precaution, in spite 
 of the fact that sometimes he spent several minutes in ad- 
 vancing a single step, an involuntary movement, a stumble, 
 or a splash might betray him. Now, aided by the lo»d riist- 
 ling of the leaves, which swept over all the pond, he pushed 
 ahead more boldly. Everything seemed to be beginning to 
 stir, the rocking waves of water began to splash on the 
 shore. 
 
 This movement was not confined to the reeds along the 
 shore, for suddenly a dark object appeared before Skshetuski, 
 and began to move towards him as if preparing for a spring. 
 At the first moment Skshetuski almost cried aloud; but fear 
 and a feeling of nausea restrained his voice, and at the same 
 time a horrible stench almost suffocated him. 
 
 After a time when the first fancy of having his way barred 
 by a drowned man was gone, only the feeling of nausea re- 
 mained, and the knight pushed on. The rustling of the 
 reeds contiued and grew louder. Through the waving tops 
 Skshetuski saw a second and a third Tartar sentry. He 
 passed these and a fourth one also. 
 
 "I must have gone round half the pond already," thought 
 he, and he rose slightly to ascertain his position. Some- 
 thing struck his legs, he looked down and at his knees saw 
 a human face. 
 
yjS WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "This is the second one," thought he. This time he was 
 not frightened, for this second corpse lay on its hack, still 
 and motionlesj, and gave no suggestion of life or action. 
 
 Skshetuski made haste lest Ms head should turn. The 
 reeds were getting denser and denser, this on the one hand 
 afforded more cover, but on the other it made his progress 
 more difficult. Another half hour, another hour passed, he 
 pushed right on, but grew more and more fatigued; in some 
 places the water was so shallow that it hardly came above 
 his ankles; in other places again, he went in almost to his 
 belt. Dragging his feet out of the bog, slow and tedious 
 labor, fatigued him more than anything else. His forehead 
 was covered with perspiration, and from time to time cold 
 shivers passed from head to foot. 
 
 ''What is the matter,"' he anxiously thought, "am I getting 
 delirious? The swamp has not appeared yet. Suppose I do 
 not recognize the place amid the thick reeds and pass it by?" 
 
 It was a fearful danger, for in that way he might circle 
 around the pond all night and find himself in the morning 
 in the same place whence he started, or fall into the hands 
 of the Cossacks. 
 
 "I have cTiosen a bad way," thought he, and became dis- 
 pirited. "I cannot get through the lake, I will return and 
 to-morrow I will go the way Longin did. Till to-morrow 1 
 could rest." 
 
 But he went on, for he realized that he was tempting him- 
 self by letting his thoughts run on going back to rest. It 
 also occurred to him that as he was going so slowly and had 
 stopped every moment, he could not yet have reached the 
 swamp. But thoughts of rest tempted him more and more. 
 He fought against his thoughts and prayed at the same time. 
 The cold chills passed through him more often; he drew his 
 feet out of the mud with ever-increasing weaknesss. The sight 
 of the Tartar sentries had stirred him, but he felt that his 
 mind was growing numb as well as his body and that the 
 flush of fever was coming upon him. 
 
 Another half-hour passed, but the swamp was not yet in 
 sight. 
 
 But more often now he stumbled against the corpses of 
 drowned men. Xight, dread, the rustling of the reeds, labor, 
 and sleeplessness, confuse his senses. He began to have 
 visions. He sees as from afar, Helena in Kudak, and he with 
 Jendzian is sailing down the stream of the Dnieper. The 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. yjg 
 
 reeds rustle, he hears the song. "Do you hear the thunder- 
 storms and tempest yonder." . . . The priest Mukho- 
 vietski is waiting in his stole, and see, Kiyshtof Grodzitski 
 takes the place of the father. . . . The girl is looking 
 day after day down from the walls upon the river. Sud- 
 denly she claps her hands and exclaims "He is coming! he 
 is coming!" 
 
 . "My Lord," says Jendzian, pulling him by the coat sleeve, 
 "the lady is here ... " 
 
 Skshetuski awakens, the tangled reeds stop him. The 
 vision disappears, consciousness returns. Now he does not 
 feel such weariness any longer, for the fever gives him 
 strength. 
 
 "Oh, is not this the swamp yet!" 
 
 But around him were the same reeds as if he had not 
 advanced at all, Near the river there must be open water, 
 this consequently cannot be the swamp. 
 
 The knight goes on, but his thoughts obstijiately return 
 to the beautiful vision. Skshetuski resisted in vain, in vain 
 begins to pray "0 Blessed Virgin," in vain struggles to re- 
 gain full consciousness. Again he beholds the Dnieper, the 
 boats, Kudak, Sieh — but now the vision is more confused, 
 there are a number of per'- ns. Besides Helena are the 
 prince and Khmyelnitski, 7 ongin, Zagloba, Bohun, Volodi- 
 yovski, all in festival attire for his wedding. But where is 
 the wedding? They are in some strange place, it is not 
 Lubni, nor Eozloga, nor Sich, nor Kudak. . water 
 
 is all about in which corpses are floating. . . . 
 
 Skshetuski awakens a second time, or rather he is aroused 
 by a noise coming from the direction in which he desires 
 to go. He stops therefore and listens. 
 
 The noise is coming nearer, rustling and splashing can 
 be heard; it is a boat. 
 
 Now it is clearly visible through the reeds. Two Cossacks 
 are sitting in it. One of them is rowing. The other holds 
 in his hand a long pole which gleams like silver in the 
 distance, and with it he pushes the water-plants aside. 
 
 Skshetuski sank into the water up to his neck, so that only 
 his head stuck out above the rushes, and watched. "Is it 
 an ordinary patrol, or are they upon my track?" wondered 
 he. But soon he concluded by the quiet, careless movements 
 of the Cossacks, that it must be an ordinary patrol, there 
 must be more than ojie boat on the pond^ and if the Cossacks 
 
78o 
 
 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 were on his track doubtless several boats would have been 
 together and a crowd of men besides. 
 
 Meantime the boat passed by. The rustling of the reeds 
 had drowned their words, but Skshetuski distinguished this 
 fragment of their conversation: 
 
 "The devil take them for ordering us to guard this foul 
 water." 
 
 The boat disappeared in the thicket of reeds. But the 
 Cossack in the front of the boat struck with regular strokes 
 at the water-plants as if he wished to frighten the fish. 
 
 Skshetuski pushed on. After awhile he saw another Tar- 
 tar picket close to the bank. The moonlight fell upon the 
 face of the Xogai which resembled a dog's snout, but Skshe- 
 tuski feared these pickets less than the loss of consciousness. 
 He therefore exerted all his will power in order to call to 
 mind clearly where he was and where he was going to. But 
 the struggle only increased his fatigue, and soon he noticed 
 that everything appeared double and threefold, and that at 
 moments the lake seemed to him to be a camp and the 
 bunches of reeds, tents. Then he wished to call Yolodiyovski 
 to go with him, but he had sufficient consciousness to restrain 
 himself. 
 
 '"Don't call, don't call." he repeated to himself incessantly, 
 "that would mean ruin." 
 
 But the struggle with himself grew harder and harder. He 
 had left Zbara j weak with hunger and loss of sleep, from which 
 soldiers there were already dying. This nocturnal wander- 
 ing, the cold bath, the stench of corpses, the roaming about 
 in the mud and the tearing apart of the roots of the water- 
 plants had greatly weakened him. Added to this was the ex- 
 citement, the fear, and the pain of m-osquito-bites that had 
 covered his face with blood. He felt that unless he soon 
 reached the swamp, he would have to go ashore let come 
 what would, or he would collapse among the reeds and drown. 
 
 The swamp and the mouth of the river seemed to him 
 a harbor of salvation, though new difficulties and dangers 
 were in store there for him. 
 
 He fought against the fever and proceeded, diregarding 
 caution more and more. In the heat of the fever Skshe- 
 tuski heard hum'an voices, conversation, as if the pond were 
 talking about him. "Would he reach the swamp or not, 
 would he work himself through or not?" The mosquitoes 
 about him, with their thin voices, hummed a more melan- 
 
WlfH i'lM ANt) SWOitD. y8l 
 
 choly tune every moment, the water was getting deeper, now 
 it reached his belt, now his breast. He thought if he should 
 have to swim, he would get tangled in this muddle of plants, 
 and drown. Again am irresistible and unconquerable desire 
 to call Pan Michael seized him. He already had put his hands 
 to his mouth to cry: 
 
 "Michael! Michael!" 
 
 But fortunately a merciful reed struck him in the face 
 with its wet brush. He regained his senses and saw before 
 him, somewhat to the right, a feeble glimmer. He kept the 
 light steadily in view and advanced towards it for some 
 time. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped. He saw a sheet of clear water be- 
 fore him. He breathed m'ore freely. It was the river with 
 a swamp along either bank. 
 
 "Now I shall stop circling along the shore and enter that 
 wedge." 
 
 On either side of the wedge a narrow fringe of reeds ex- 
 tended. T'he knight proceeded along the one which he had 
 reached, and soon realized that he was upon the right track. 
 He looked about. The pond was already behind him, he 
 passed along by the narrow strip of water which could be 
 nothing else but the river. The water here was colder too. 
 After awhile a dreadful weariness oppressed him. His knees 
 shook beneath him and before his eyes the black cloud 
 hovered. "I can stand it no longer," thought he, "I must 
 go ashore and lie down. I can go no further, I must rest." 
 
 He fell upon his knees, his hands grasped a dry tuft 
 covered with moss, like a little island among the rushes. 
 
 He sat down upon it and began to wipe his bleeding face 
 with his hands and to draw deep breaths. 
 
 After a time the smell of smoke came to his nostrils, and 
 when he looked towards the shore, he saw about a hundred 
 paces away, a fire, and around it a small group of men. He 
 was exactly in line with the fire, and when the wind bent 
 the reeds apart he could see everything plainly. At the first 
 glance he recognized Tartar herders, who were sitting about 
 the fire engaged in eating. A ravenous hunger seized him, 
 the past morning he had eaten a bite of horse-meat, scarce 
 enough to have satisfied a wolf's cub, two months old; since 
 then he had eaten nothing. He began to tear up the stalks 
 of the water-lilies about him and to suck them greedily; 
 
yS2 WITH FIRE AXD SftORD. 
 
 thereby he allaj'ed his hunger and quenched the thirst that 
 flas tormenting him. At the same time he did not take his 
 eyes from the fire which was growing paler and fainter. The 
 people round it became enveloped in a fog and seemed to 
 be fading away. 
 
 "Oh, sleep is overcoming me, 1 shall sleep on this island 
 throughout the mght." 
 
 Suddenly a commotion arose around the fire. The herders 
 rose up. Then a sLout "Horse! Horse!" struck Skshetuski's 
 ears. A short neigh was the response. The fire smouldered 
 away and died. After a Lime the knight neard a ..histlinj 
 and the dull thump of horses' lioofs from the wet meadow. 
 
 Skshetuski could not jnderstand why the herders had 
 scattered. Then he observed that the reeds and the leaves 
 of the lilies were growing paler, and the water took on a 
 different glimmer than that of moonlight, and that the air 
 was veiled with a light fog. 
 
 He looked around: it was dawning. 
 
 He had spent the whole night in skirting the po-nd ere 
 he reached the swamp and the river. He was barely beyond 
 the beginning ot the journey. Xow he must ^o along the 
 river and attempt to pass the camp during the day. The 
 air was pentrated more and more with the light of dawn, 
 In the east the horizon was soon a pale green color. 
 
 Skshetuski slipped from the island into the swamp again, 
 and pushing towards the bank he bent the reeds apart and 
 looked out. 
 
 At a distance of about five hundred paces was a Tartar 
 patrol. Otherwise the meadow was empty, only the dpng 
 fire spluttered on a dry spot near. The knight made up his 
 mind to creep to it through the tall grass, which in places 
 was interspersed with rushes. Having reached the fire he 
 looked greedily for some remains of food. He found indeed 
 some freshly-picked mutton-banes with bits of tendon and 
 fat, besides some roasted turnips left in the ashes. He fell 
 upon the food with the greediness of a wild beast until 
 he noticed that the patrols on the road that he had passed 
 were coming towards him across the meadow on their way 
 to the camp. 
 
 He then retreated and in a few minutes disappeared among 
 the reeds. He found his island again and lay down on it 
 noiselessly. The patrol passed by. Skshetuski began to gnaw 
 some bones again which he had brought along with him, and 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 783 
 
 soon they cracked beneath his strong jaws as if between the 
 teeth of a wolf. He gnawed off the tendons and fat, sucked 
 out the marrow, and partly allayed his hunger. §uch a 
 breakfast he had not had for a long time in Zbaraj. 
 
 Now he felt invigorated. The food as well as the dawning 
 day, braced him. It grew brighter and brighter. The 
 eastern horizon was transformed from a greenish into a 
 rose-red and golden color. Although the rawness c- the 
 morning chilled the knight, he found consolation in the 
 thought that the sun would soon warm his tired body. He 
 carefully examined his surroundings. The island was fairly 
 large, somewhat short, but broad enough to allow two men 
 to lie upo-n it comfortably, the reeds surrounded it like a 
 wall upon all sides, thus concealing it from sight. "They 
 cannot find me here," thought Skshetuski, "unless they fish 
 in the reeds. But there are now no fishes for they have all 
 died on account of decomposition. Here I will rest and 
 think what is best to be done." 
 
 He turned over in his mind whether he should continue 
 to go on by the river or not. A!; length he determined to 
 go on if the wind should rise and cause the reeds to sway; 
 otherwise his movements and the noise would betray him, 
 especially as he probably would have to pass close to the 
 camp. 
 
 "I thank Thee, God, that I am still alive," he whispered. 
 
 He gazed up at the sky and then his thoughts flew over 
 to the Polish camp. He could see the castle plainly at the 
 moment it was gilded by the first rays of the rising sun. Per- 
 haps some one was looking from the tower at the pond and 
 at the reeds through a field-glass. Pan Michael, Zagloba, and 
 Vododiyovski would no doubt watch all day long from the 
 ramparts to see if he were hanging from some of the war- 
 towers. 
 
 "They will not see me," thought Skshetuski, and his 
 breast swelled with a pleasant feeling of safety. "They will 
 not see me," he repeated several times. "I have only gone 
 a small part of the way, but it was no trifle. G-od will aid me 
 further." 
 
 Now he looked with the eyes of imagination beyond the 
 camp, beyond the forest, behind which waS the royal army, 
 the general militia of the country, hussars, infantry, foreign 
 regiments. The earth groaned beneath the burden of men, 
 liorses, and cannon, and in the midst of this crowd of people 
 
-{?, WITE FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 was the king himself. . . . Then he saw a great hattle, 
 broken camps, — the prince with all his cavalry rushing over 
 heaps of corpses, the salutations of the armies. . . 
 
 His aching and swollen eyes closed upon the dazzling light; 
 his head sank beneath the weight of thoughts; a pleasant 
 weakness overcame him; he stretched himself at full length 
 and fell fast asleep. 
 
 The reeds rustled. The sun rose high in the sky and 
 warmeu with kindly rays the Jmight and dried his clothes. 
 He lay motionless and sound asleep. Had anyone seen him 
 thus, lying on the island, with bloody, upturned face, he 
 would surely have thought that this was a corpse that had 
 been washed ashore. Hours went by but he still slept. The 
 sun reached its zenith and began to descend in the vault of 
 heaven, but he still slept. The piercing crys of horses biting 
 each other and the loud shouts of the herders as they lashed 
 the stallions, awoke him. 
 
 He rubbed his eyes, looked about, and tried to remember 
 where he was. He looked up in the sky, still red with the 
 last rays of the setting sun; stars were twinkling. He had 
 slept through the whole day. 
 
 Skshetuski however, felt neither rested nor refreshed; on 
 the contrary all his limbs were aching. But he thought 
 that new toil would brace his body, and putting his feet into 
 the water he continued his journey. 
 
 He now proceeded in clear water skirting the reedf;. lest 
 he should by tlie noise of his steps excite the attention of the 
 herders who were guarding the banks. The last gleam had 
 died away and it was quite dark, for the moon had not yet 
 risen from behind the woods. The water was so deep that 
 Skshetuski in some places found him>:elf over his head and 
 was obliged to swim. This was difficult on account of his 
 clothes and because he had to swim against the current. 
 But not the keenest Tartar eye could have seen the head 
 which was moving along the dark wall of reeds. He there- 
 fore pushed forward rather boldly, sometimes swimming, but 
 mostly wading in water up to his belt or beneath his arms, 
 until he finally reached a spot where his eyes beheld thou- 
 sands and thoiisands of lights on either side of the river. 
 
 "Those are thecamps," thought he, "now God help me." 
 
 And he listened. 
 
 A murmur of many voices reached his ears. Those indeed 
 were the camps. On the left bank of the river, following 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 785 
 
 its bend, lay the Cossack camp with its thousands of lents 
 and wagons — on the right side the Tartar camp — botli re- 
 sounding with noise and tumult, full of the babel of human 
 voices, wild rolling of drums and shrill whistling of tifes, 
 bellowing of cattle, neighing of horses, amd shouts. The 
 river divided them and kept them. from quarreling and fight- 
 ing with each other, for the Tartars covild never exist in 
 peace beside the Cossacks. The river was widest here, per- 
 haps widened purposely. Judging by the fires the tents and 
 carts W|ere on one side and reed-huts upon the other, but 
 a few steps from the river. Close to the water, no doubt, 
 pickets were stationed. 
 
 The reeds and bulrushes became thinner; evidently the 
 banks along the two camps were bare. Skshetuski snealced 
 on for some tens of steps and then stopped. The shadow 
 of a mighty force seemed to fall upon him from those mul- 
 titudes. 
 
 He felt at the moment as if the entire vigilance, the entire 
 wrath of these thousands of human beings were concentrated 
 upon him, and against them he felt powerless and defenceless. 
 He was all alone. 
 
 "No one can ever pass here," thought he! 
 
 But he crept on still, for a painful, irresistible curiosity 
 dragged him forward. He wished to have a nearer view of 
 this terrible force. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped. The thicket of reeds came to an 
 end, as if it had been mowed down with knives. Perhaps 
 the reeds had been cut for the building of huts. Further 
 on the clear water was red from the fires reflected in it. 
 
 Two great bright fires were burning close to the banks. 
 
 By one was a Tartar on horseback, by the other a Cossack 
 with a long lance in his hand. They turned their faces to- 
 ward each other and the water. In the distance several such 
 pickets were to be seen. 
 
 The flames cast their light on the river, and formed what 
 looked like a bridge of fire. Along the banks were two rows 
 of small boats used by the guard on the lake. 
 
 " 'Tis impossible," murmured Skshetuski. 
 
 Sudden despair seized him. He could go neither forward 
 nor backward. A day and a night had passed since he had 
 been roaming through the mud and reeds. And he breathed 
 the foul air and waded the water of the lake only to realize 
 here, after having reached the camps of the enemy through 
 which he desired to pass, that it was impossible? 
 50 
 
yg6 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD. 
 
 But to return was also impossible. The knight knew that 
 he might find strength enough to drag himself forward, but 
 not to go backward. A dull rage mingled with his despair. 
 At first it urged him to step out of the water, choke the 
 guard, and then throw himself among the crowd and die. 
 
 The breeze with a mysterious whisper began to rustle 
 again the reeds, bringing with it sounds of the bells of 
 Zbaraj. Skshetuski began to pray fervently. He beat his 
 breast and with all the strength and desperate faith of a 
 drowning man he besought Heaven to aid him. He prayed, 
 while from the two camips arose ominous noises, as if in re- 
 sponse to his prayer. Black figures flitted about in the glare 
 of the fire, looking like a herd of devils in hell. The pickets 
 stood motionless. The river flowed on with blood-tinted 
 waves. 
 
 "The fires will burn out when the night comes on," said 
 Skshetuski to himself, and waited. 
 
 An hour passed, and another. The noise decreased. The 
 fires began to smoulder, except the two watch-fires which 
 flared up brighter and brighter. The pickets were relieved; 
 it was evident that guard would be kept until morning. 
 
 It came to Skshetuski's mind that perhaps he might slip 
 through more easily in the day-time, but he abandoned the 
 thought at once. In the day-time they drew water, brought 
 their cattle down to drink and bathed; the river would be 
 full of people. Suddenly Skshetuski glanced at the boats. 
 On either side were about ten boats in a row and on the 
 side of the Tartar camp the rushes reached to the first one. 
 Skshetuski sank in the water to his neck and slowly moved 
 towards the boats, at the same time fixing his eyes on the 
 Tartar picket. At the end of half an hour he was close to 
 the first boat. His plan was simple. The sterns of the boats 
 which were raised above the water, formed a sort of arch, 
 beneath which a man's head might pass with ease. Wlien 
 all the boats lay closely side by side, the Tartar picket could 
 not see a head pushing along under them. There was more 
 danger from the Cossack picket, but he might not see the 
 head either, for in spite of the fire opposite the boats, it was 
 dark beneath them. There was indeed no other way. 
 
 Skshetuski hesitated no longer and was soon beneath the 
 sterns of the boats. He crept, or rather dragged himself 
 along, fot the water was very shallow. He was so near the 
 Tartar standing on the bank, that he could hear the breathing 
 
WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 787 
 
 of his horse. For a moment he stopped and listened. For- 
 tunately the boats lay closely side by side. Now he fixed 
 his eyes upon the Cossack picket whom he could see quite 
 plainly. He was looking at the Tartar camp. The knight 
 had passed about fifteen boats when he suddenly heard steps 
 on the shore and the voices of men. He ducked at once 
 and listened. During his journeys in the Crimea he had 
 learned the Tartar language. A cold shiver ran through his 
 body as he heard the words of command: 
 
 "Embark, and put off." 
 
 Although in the water the knight felt fever burning him; 
 if the Tartars should take the boat beneath which he was 
 concealed he would be lost; should they step into the one 
 in front of him, he was lost also, for this would leave an open 
 lighted space. 
 
 Every . second seeemed an hour to him. Steps sounded 
 on the planks — ^the Tartars took thei fifth boat right behind 
 him and put out, rowing in the direction of the pond. This 
 proceeding attracted the attention of the Cossack picket to 
 the boats. Skshetuski lay motionless for a good half-hour. 
 Not until the sentry was relieved did he begin to crawl ahead 
 again. 
 
 In this way he reached the end of the row of boats. Be- 
 yond the last one the rushes grew again and a little further 
 on reeds. When he reached shelter the knight fell on his 
 knees, breathless and covered with sweat, and thanked God 
 with all his heart. 
 
 He went onward more boldly, taking advantage of every 
 faint breeze that stirred the reeds. From time to time lie 
 looked backward. The watchfires appeared more and more 
 distant; they twinkled faintly and began to fade away. The 
 lines of reeds and rushes were getting denser and darker, for 
 the banks were more swampy. The pickets could not be 
 posted so closely to each other now, the noise of the camps 
 grew fainter. Supernatural strength seemed to flow into 
 the limbs of the knight. He forced his way through the 
 reeds, .over islands, sinking in the mud, falling into deep 
 water, swimming and getting out again. He did not dare to 
 go on shore yet, but he almost felt that he was saved. He 
 did not know how long he thus waded on, but yhen he again 
 looked back the watchfires appeared like little points of 
 light in the distance; a few hundred steps more and they dis- 
 appeared altogether. The moon went down; all about was 
 
y88 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 still. Then arose a stronger, mightier rustling than that 
 of the reeds. Skshetuski almost cried aloud from joy — on 
 both banks of the river he saw the wood before him. 
 
 He made for the bank and emerged from the reeds. He 
 breathed the fragrance of pine. The pine-forest joined the 
 reeds and rushes, and here and there gleamed the silvery 
 leaves of ferns in the black depths. 
 
 The knight fell upon his knees for the second time and 
 kissed the earth as he prayed. 
 
 He was saved. 
 
 Then he plunged into the darkness of the forest, asking 
 himself whither he should go? Whither would these forests 
 lead him? Where ■was the king and the army? 
 
 The journey was not over yet, nor was it now safe nor easy. 
 But when he considered that he had emerged from Zbaraj, 
 that he had stolen through pickets, swamps, mud, caanps, and 
 nearly a half million of enemies — then it seemed to him that 
 all danger was over and that this forest was a clear road lead- 
 ing directly to His Majesty the king. 
 
 And so this hungry and shivering wreck, smeared with his 
 own blood and with red and black mud, walked on in glad- 
 ness and with hope in his heart that he would soon return 
 to Zbaraj in different circumstances and in greater power. 
 
 "You shall not remain much longer a prey to hopeless- 
 ness and starvation," said he, thinking about his friends in 
 Zbaraj, "for I will bring the king." 
 
 His heroic heart was rejoiced at the near rescue of the 
 prince, the commanders, Volodiyovski, Zagloba, and all the 
 heroes enclosed within the ramparts of Zbaraj. The depth 
 of the forest received him and embraced him with shelter- 
 ing darkness. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 In the reception room of the court at Toporov there sat 
 three gentlemen in secret conference. It was evening; several 
 wax-candles stood on the table, which was covered with maps 
 of the siirrounding country. There also lay upon the table 
 a tall hat with a black feather; a field glass, a sword with the 
 hilt set with pearls, a lace handkerchief embroidered with a 
 crown, and a pair of deerskin gloves. At the table in a high 
 armchair sat a man rather small and slender, but strongly 
 built, and about forty years of age. His face was swarthy 
 and sallow and bore a weary expression; his eyes were black 
 and so was his Swedish wig, the long locks of which fell over 
 his neck and shoulders; a thin, black moustache curled up 
 at the ends, adorned his upper lip, but the under lip and 
 beard protruded, imparting to his physiognomy a character- 
 istic mark of lion-like courage, pride, and stubbornness. It 
 was not a handsome face, but there was dignity in it. A 
 sensuous expression betraying inclination to enjoyment of 
 life was strangely blended with a certain sleepy torpor and 
 frigidity. The eyes seemed dull, but one could easily imagine 
 that in moments of enthusiasm, rapture, or scorn, they could 
 •flash like lightning; they at the same time betrayed both 
 mildness and affability. 
 
 The black dress composed of a satin kaftan with a lace 
 ruff, beneath which a gold chain glittered, increased the 
 distinction of this remarkable figure. There was something 
 majestic about it, despite the sorrow and care which expressed 
 themselves in the features and attitude. This in truth was 
 the king, Yan Kazimier Vaza, who nearly a year since had 
 succeeded his brother Vladislav. 
 
 Seated a little behind him was Hieronom Radzieyovski the 
 chief of Lomza, a short, thick-set, ruddy man with the face 
 of a courtier; and opposite to him a third man who was lean- 
 ing upon his elbows, attentively studying the maps before 
 him, and from time to time raising his eyes to the king. 
 
 His countenance was less majestic, but expressed more 
 
 789 
 
ygo WITH FIRE AXD RWORD. 
 
 ofiBicial dignity, than that of the king. It was a face fur- 
 rowed by care and thought, cold and intelligent, with a stern 
 look which did not mar its uncommon beauty. His eyes were 
 blue and penetrating, his complexion delicate in spite of his 
 age. His gorgeous Polish dress, his beard trimmed in the 
 Swedish style, and the tuft of hair on his forehead imparted 
 to his regular classical features, something of senatorial 
 dignity. 
 
 This was Yerzy OssoUnski chancellor of the Crown and 
 prince of the Roman nobility, a diplomat and orator, who was 
 admired throughout all the courts of Europe; the famous 
 opponent of Yeremy Vishnyovyetski. His extraordinary 
 ability had long before attracted the attention of former 
 rulers and had procured for him the most important offices, 
 by virtue of which he guided the ship of state, at the present 
 hour so near to ruin. 
 
 The chancellor was fit to be the pilot of such a ship; in- 
 dustrious, patient, intelligent, and farseeing, he would have 
 directed with a steady hand any other State except the Com- 
 monwealth to a safe harbor, and could have secured domestic 
 strength and many years of power to any other State — ^if he 
 could have been the absolute minister of a monarch, for ex- 
 ample, such as the King of France, or the King of Spain. 
 
 Educated beyond the boundaries of his own countries, fol- 
 lowing foreign models, in spite of his innate intelligence and 
 quickness, in spite of his long experience, he could not ac- 
 custom himself to the powerless rule in the Commonwealth, 
 and all his life he did not learn not to take this circumstance 
 into account, although this was the rock upon which all his 
 plans and endeavors were shattered — though he now saw 
 the ruin that was pending, and later he died with despair in 
 his heart. 
 
 He was an ingenious theorist who, however, did not under- 
 stand how to be ingenious in practice, and he fell into a 
 maze of errors from which he could not escape. If he once 
 hit upon an idea that promised to bear good fruit he clung 
 to it with the stubbornness of a fanatic, not recognizing that 
 this idea though salutary in theory, might in practice, be- 
 cause of actual circumstances, be followed bv terrible dis- 
 asters. 
 
 Wishing to strengthen the country and the government he 
 let loose the terrible Cossack element, not forseeing that 
 the storm would turn not only against the nobility, the mag- 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. -gi 
 
 nates, the great estates, the abuses and arrogance of the 
 nobles, but also against the most vital interests of the State. 
 
 Khmyelnitski rose up in the steppes and had grown to 
 be a giant. The defeats of Zolta Woda, Korsun, and Pilav- 
 yets fell heavily on the Commonwealth. At the outset this 
 Khmyelnitski entered into a confederacy with the Crimean 
 power, the enemy of the country. One blow followed 
 another — there remained war and nothing else. The terrible 
 element should have been crushed first of all, so as to make 
 it of U3e in the future; but the chancellor, instead of doing 
 this, occupied with his own thoughts, was still negotiating a 
 delay and still trusting even Khmyelnitski. 
 
 The force of circumstances shattered all his theories. 
 Every day it became clearer that the results of the chan- 
 cellor's efforts were entirely different from what he had ex- 
 pected, till at last the days of Zbaraj had sadly confirmed all. 
 
 The chancellor was almost crushed by worry, exasperation, 
 and general unpopularity. 
 
 He did what, in times of misfortune and adversity, all do 
 whose self-confidence is stronger than all disaster; he looked 
 for people whom he could hold responsible. 
 
 The entire Commonwealth was^to blame, and all classetj, 
 the past, and the form of government. But he, who in fear 
 lest a rock lying on the slope of a mountain might fall and 
 crush everything in his way, wishes to roll it to the top with- 
 out considering the strength that is at his command, will 
 only cause the rock to roll down all the sooner. The chan- 
 cellor did worse, for he called to his aid the terrible rushing 
 torrent of the Cossacks, and had not taken into considera- 
 tion that this force was bound to undermine the very ground 
 on which the rock was resting. 
 
 While therefore he sought for people upon whom to lay the 
 blame, all eyes were turned towards him as the cause of the 
 war, the disasters, and misery. 
 
 But the king still believed in the judgment of the chan- 
 cellor, all the more because public opinion did not spare His 
 Majesty and accused him equally with the chancellor. So 
 they sat, careworn and weary, at Toporov not knowing what 
 to do, for the king had only twenty-five thousand men at 
 his command. The conscript summons had been issued too 
 late, and recruits therefore were gathering very slowly. As 
 to who was the cause of this, and whether this delay was not 
 a new blunder of the stubborn policy of the chancellor, that 
 
792 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 secret was known only to the king and his minister; it suffice* 
 that both felt at that moment helpless against the power ox 
 Khmyelnitski. 
 
 What was more serious still was that they had no accurate 
 information about him. In the camp of the king it was not 
 known whether the Khan with all his forces was vrith Khmy- 
 elnitski, or if only Tukhay Bey with a few thousands of his 
 hordes was accompanying the Cossacks. This was a ques- 
 tion of life or death. With Khmyelnitski alone the king 
 might, in ease of necessity, trv his fortune, though a force 
 ten times greater was under the command of the rebel het- 
 man. The magic of the royal name had great influence with- 
 the Cossacks; greater perhaps than with the crowds of gen- 
 eral milita, and the rude and untrained nobility. If, how- 
 ever, the Khan were with the Cossacks, it was hopeless to 
 battle against them. 
 
 Widely varying reports were floating about, but no one 
 knew the true state of affairs. The cautious Khmyelnitski 
 held all his forces together and did not let a single party of 
 Cossacks or Tartars go from camp so that the king might 
 not get information. 
 
 The rebel chieftain had a design to seal up the starving 
 Zbaraj entirely with a part of his troops, while he with the 
 rest of his Cossacks, and the entire Tartar forces, would sur- 
 round the king unexpectedly and deliver him over to the 
 Khan. 
 
 It was not without reason therefore that the brow of the 
 king was clouded, for there is no greater pain to majesty 
 than a feeling of helplessness. Yan Kazimier lay helpless 
 in his armchair with his hand resting on the table and paint- 
 ing to the maps, he said: 
 
 "These lead to nothing, nothing! I need informants.'' 
 
 "That is what I am longing for too,'" answered Ossolinski. 
 
 "Have the scouts come back?" 
 
 "They have, but they bring no news." 
 
 "Xot even a captive?" 
 
 "Only peasants from the neighborhood who know noth- 
 ing." 
 
 "And is Pan Pelka back? he is a famous scout." 
 
 "Your Majesty," interrupted the Chief of Lomza from be- 
 hind the arm-chair, "Pan Pelka is not here, nor will he re- 
 turn, for he is dead." 
 
 A deep silence fell. The king gaeed upon the flickering 
 candles and drummed with his fingers on the table. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. --, 
 
 "Have you no counsel?" he asked at length. 
 
 "We must wait," said the chancellor, earnestly. 
 
 A frown wrinkled Yan Kazimier's forehead. "Wait?" he 
 repeated, "and in Zbaraj, Vishnyovyetski and the commanders 
 are dying of hunger." 
 
 "They can hold out for some time yet," remarked Radzie- 
 yovski. 
 
 "You had better hold your peace, chief, if you have no good 
 plan to ofEer." 
 
 "I have a plan. Your Majesty." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Let us send sone one to Khmyelnitski as if going to nego- 
 tiate; the envoy will discover if the Khan be with him, and 
 will bring us information." 
 
 "That is not possible," said the king, "after having de- 
 clared Khmyelnitski a rebel, set a price upon his head, and 
 bestowed the baton of the Zaporojians upon Pan Zabuski, it 
 would be beneath our dignity to enter into negotiations with 
 Khmyelnitski." 
 
 "Then let us send an envoy to the camp," replied the chief. 
 
 The king looked inquiringly at the chancellor, who in turn 
 looked at the king with his severe blue eyes, and after some 
 reflection said: 
 
 "The advice would be good, but Khmyelnitski would no 
 doubt seize the envoy; therefore it would not work." 
 
 Yan Kazimier waved his hand. 
 
 "I see," said he, slowly, "that you have no plan and now I 
 will give you mine. I will go with the whole army to Zbaraj. 
 Let Grod's will be done! There we shall find out if the Khan 
 be present or not." 
 
 The chancellor knew the indomitable courage of the king 
 and did not doubt that he would do what he said. Besides he 
 knew from experience that when the king had once made 
 up his mind to do a thing all persuasion was useless. He did 
 not offer any opposition therefore at once; he even praised the 
 idea, but deprecated too great haste. He explained to the 
 king that a delay of one or two days would make no difference, 
 and in the meantime direct news might arrive. Every day 
 must increase the dissension and insubordination among the 
 mob because of the constant defeats and the news of the 
 king's proximity. The rebellion might melt before the pres- 
 ence of Majesty, as snow beneath sunbeams, but it required 
 time. "The king," he went on to say, "bears a responsibility 
 
794 WITH FIRE AXD fWORD. 
 
 before God and posterity of saving the whole Common- 
 wealth; he should not expose himself to danger especially as 
 in case of misfortune the army in Zbaraj would be hopelessly 
 lost." 
 
 "Do what you please, but I must have an informant to- 
 morrow."' 
 
 Again silence fell. A golden, full moon shone in through 
 the windows, but in the chamber it grew darker for the 
 candles were flickering. 
 
 "What time is it?" asked the king. 
 
 "It is near midnight," answered Eadzieyovski. 
 
 '"I shall not sleep to-night. I ^vill ride around the camp, 
 and you come with me. Where are Ubald and Artishevski?"' 
 
 "In the camp. I will go and order the horses," answered 
 the chief. 
 
 He went towards the door. There arose a noise in the 
 hall, a lively conversation was audible, then the sound of 
 hurried steps; the door was opened and Tyzenhauz, the king's 
 chamberlain, rushed in breathless. 
 
 "Your Majesty," he cried, "an of&cer from Zbaraj has ar- 
 rived." 
 
 The king sprang up, the chancellor rose also, and both 
 cried out, "impossible!" 
 
 "It is so, he is standing in the antechamber." 
 
 "Let him come in," exclaimed the king, clapping his hands, 
 "let him allav our anxiety; show him in at once, do vou 
 hear?" 
 
 Tyzenhauz disappeared, and a moment later there appeared 
 in his stead, a tall, strange figure. 
 
 "Step nearer, sir," said the king, "nearer, we are glad to 
 see you." 
 
 The newcomer walked slowly to the table and at sight of 
 him the king, the chancellor, and the chief of Lomza, fell 
 back in astonishment. Before them stood a man, or rather a 
 spectre, fearful to look upon. Tattered rags covered his ema- 
 ciated body; his face was pale and stained with blood and 
 filth; his eyes glittered feverishly, his black, tangled beard 
 fell over his breast; the stench of corpses emanated from him, 
 and his legs shook so that he had to lean upon the table. 
 
 The king and the two officials gazed at him with wide, 
 staring eyes. Xow the doors opened and a number of digni- 
 taries, military and civil, entered; among them Generals Ubald 
 and Artishevsi, Sapieha, the Lithuanian Yice-Chancellor, 
 
WITH FIRE AND HWORD. yg^ 
 
 the Chief oi Jechyts and Pan Sandomierski. All took places 
 behind the king and looked at the newcomer. Then the king 
 asked : 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 The unfortunate man opened his mouth, attempted to 
 speak, but the words would not come, his beard quivered and 
 he was barely able to whisper: 
 
 •'From .... Zbaraj." 
 
 '•(live him some wine," said a voice from the crowd. 
 
 In a moment a goblet of wine was brought; the newcomer 
 emptied it with great difficulty. Meanwhile the chancellor 
 had thrown ofE his cloak and covered the stranger's shoulders 
 with it. 
 
 "Can you speak now?" asked the king, after a time. 
 
 "I can,"' replied the knight, with a somewhat firmer voice. 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 "Yan Skshetuski, Lieutenant of Hussans." .... 
 
 "In whose service?" 
 
 "In the service of the Voyevoda of Russia." ' 
 
 A murmur spread through the chamber. 
 
 "What news do you bring with you?" asked the king, in 
 a feverish tone. 
 
 "Distress . . famine . . . one grave." 
 
 The king covered his eyes with his hands. 
 
 '".Tesus of N'azareth! Jesus of Nazareth!" he murmured. 
 
 Then he asked again: 
 
 "Can they hold out for a time yet?" 
 
 "Powder is scarce, the enemy is on the ramparts." 
 
 "Is the enemy strong?" 
 
 "Khmyelnitski . . . and the Khan with all his hordes." 
 
 "The Khan is -there?" 
 
 "He is." 
 
 Deep silence followed. Those present looked at one an- 
 other, . . . anxiety was expressed on every face. 
 
 "How have you been able to hold out?" asked the chan- 
 cellor, with a doubt'ful accent. 
 
 Then Skshetuski raised his head, as if new strength had 
 come to him. A flash of pride glowed in his face and in a 
 voice unexpectedly strong, he said: 
 
 "Twenty assaults repulsed, sixteen battles won in the open 
 field, seventy-five sorties — " . . . 
 
 Silence fell asjain. 
 
 Then the king straightened up, shook his wig as a lion his 
 
796 WITB FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 mane, while a flush crimsoned his sallow face and his •yes 
 flashed. 
 
 "By God!" he exclaimed, "enough of listening to advice, 
 of this paltering and hesitation! if the Khan be there or not, 
 if the general militia be gathered or not, by God! I have had 
 enough of this; to-day we shall march to Zbaraj." 
 
 "To Zbaraj, to Zbaraj!" shouted a number of powerful 
 voices. 
 
 The face of the newcomer brightened like the dawn. 
 
 "Gracious King and Euler," he said, "we will live and die 
 with you." . . . 
 
 These words touched the noble heart of the king, and re- 
 gardless of the knight's repugnant appearance, he pressed his 
 head with his hands and said: 
 
 "I prefer vou to others, dressed in satin. By the Most 
 Holy Mother, men who have done less have been rewarded 
 with governorships. But what you have done shall not pass 
 unrewarded. Do not thank me, I am your debtor." 
 
 Then the others cried in chorus: 
 
 "There has been no greater knight, this one is the greatest 
 of those in Zbaraj. He has achieved immortal glory." 
 
 "How did you penetrate the Cossacks and Tartars?" 
 
 "I hid in swamps . . . crept through reeds . . . wandered 
 through woods, . . roamed about, . was without food." 
 
 "Give him food,"' exclaimed the king. 
 
 "Food," repeated the others, "give him clothes also." 
 
 "To-morrow you shall have a horse and clothing,'" said the 
 king, "you shall not want for anything." 
 
 All, following the king's example, rivalled one another in 
 bestowing praises. Again they put questions to him which 
 he answered with difficulty, for increasing weakness overcame 
 him, and he was scarce conscious. Food and drink was 
 brought to him. Then there entered the priest Tsietsishovski. 
 the royal chaplain. 
 
 The dignitaries stepped aside to make room for him, for 
 he was a very learned man and much respected. His word 
 had almost as much weight with the king as the chancellor's, 
 and it often happened that he openly spoke from the pulpit 
 about matters that few hinted at even in the Diet. He was 
 immediately surrounded and they began to tell him that an 
 officer had arrived from Zbaraj; that the prince, in spite of 
 famine and suffering, was still holding out against the Khan, 
 who together with Khmyelnitski was laying siege to Zbaraj; 
 
WITH WIRE AND 8W0BD. jgj 
 
 that the latter had not lost during the past year so many men 
 as had fallen before Zbaraj; and finally that the king intended 
 to hasten to the prince's aid, even though he and his army 
 should perish. 
 
 The priest listened attentively, moving his lips and gazing 
 constantly upon the emaciated knight who was refreshing 
 himself, the king having commanded him not to regard his 
 presence, and even waiting on him himself, and from time to 
 time pledging him in a little silver goblet. 
 
 "And what is the name of this officer," asked the priest. 
 
 "Skshetuski." 
 
 "Yan Skshetuski?" 
 
 "Yes, Father." 
 
 "Lieutenant with the Voyevoda of Russia?" 
 
 "So it is!" 
 
 The priest raised his wrinkled face, murmured a prayer, and 
 said: 
 
 "Let us praise the name of the Lord, for through hidden 
 paths he leads man to bliss and peace. Amen. I know this 
 officer." 
 
 Skshetuski heard these words and involuntarily his eyes 
 sought the face of the priest, but his face, form, and voice 
 seemed entirely strange to him. 
 
 "So you alone undertook to get through the enemy's 
 camp?" asked the priest. 
 
 "A worthy comrade made the attempt before me, but he 
 fell," answered Skshetuski. 
 
 "So much greater is your service. I see by your appear- 
 ance that it must have been a terrible undertaking. God be- 
 held your sacrifice, your virtue, your youth, and was with 
 you." 
 
 Then the priest turned to Yan Kazimier. 
 
 "Gracious King," said he, "have you then irrevocably made 
 up your mind to hasten to the rescue of the Voyevoda of 
 Russia?" 
 
 "To your prayers. Father," replied the king, "I commend 
 the country, the army, and myself, for I know that it is a 
 terrible undertaking; but I cannot allow the prince to perish 
 before my eyes with such knights as our comrade here, on 
 those unfortunate ramparts." 
 
 "God will give us victory," exclaimed several voices. 
 
 The priest raised his hands and a deep silence fell. 
 
 "I bless you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, 
 andof the Holy Ghost." 
 
7^8 WITH FIRE AND HWORD. 
 
 "Amen!" said the king. 
 
 "Amen!" repeated all. 
 
 A peaceful expiession settled upon the sorrowing coun- 
 tenance of Yan Ivaziniier, but in his eyes there shone an un- 
 usual light. A conversation in low tones was carried on by 
 those present concerning the intended expedition, for many 
 doubted yet if the king could really march out at once; he, 
 however, took his sword from the table, and made a sign to 
 Tyzenhauz to gird it on him. 
 
 "When does Your ilajesty intend to begin the march?" in- 
 quired the chancellor. 
 
 "God has given us a pleasant night," answered the king, 
 "the horses will not get overheated." Then turning to the 
 digniiaries, he added, "let the signal to mount be given."' 
 
 The commander of the cam]) immediately disappeared. 
 Chancellor Ossolinski remarked in a low tone that all were 
 not ready, and that the ivagons could not leave before morn- 
 ing. But the king replied: 
 
 "Let him remain behind who prefers the wagons to his 
 country and his king." 
 
 The room became empty. All hurried to their regiments to 
 get them in order and join the march. Only the king, the 
 chancellor, the priest, Skshetuski, and Tyzenhauz remained. 
 
 "Gracious Lord," said the priest, "from this officer you knnw 
 now what you wisli to learn, he must have rest now, for he 
 can hardly stand on his feet. Permit me. Your Majesty, to 
 take him to my quarters over night?" 
 
 "Very well. Father," replied the king, "your request is 
 granted. Let Tyzenhauz and some one else escort him, for 
 he could hardly get there alone. Go, go, dear officer, nobody 
 here deserves rest so much as you. And bear in mind that I 
 am your debtor. I would rather forget myself, than forget 
 you." 
 
 Tyzenhauz took Skshetuski by the arm and led him out. 
 In the antechamber they met the Chief of Jechyts. who sup- 
 ported the tottering knight on the other side. The priest 
 went ahead and before him a sen'ant with a lantern. But 
 the night was bright, calm, and warm. The golden moon 
 sailed like a boat above ToporoT. A confusion of voices arose 
 from the square, and creaking of wagons and noise of trum- 
 pets sounding the reveille. At a distance, before the church, 
 illumined by the light of the moon, numbers of soldiers, in- 
 fantry, and cavalry, could be seen. Horses were neighing in 
 
WITH FIRE AAK mWOIW. ^gg 
 
 the village. The creaking of wagons mingled with the rattle 
 of chains, and the noise ol mu\'ing cannon; — tlie din increased 
 every moment. 
 
 "They axe marching out already," said the priest. 
 
 "To Zbaraj, .... to the rescue," .... whispered 
 Skshetuski. . Was it joy, or the hardships that he had gone 
 through, or both together, that made him so weali that Tyzen- 
 hauz and the Chief of Jetchyts had almost to carry him? 
 
 On their way to the priest's house, they passed through 
 the soldiers assembled before the church. These were the 
 cavalry of Sapieha and the infantry of Artsishevski. They 
 were not yet in ranks and stood abou'!: without order, massed 
 in places and ohstructing the passage. 
 
 "Make way, make way," cried the priest. 
 
 "Who passes here?" 
 
 "An officer from Zbaraj." .... 
 
 "Bow to him! Bow to him!" exclaimed many voices. 
 
 And they immediately made way, but others crowded round 
 to look upon the hero. They gazed in astonishment upon 
 that emaciated, disfigured face, bathed in the moon's light 
 and whispered to each other: "From Zbaraj . . . from 
 Zbaraj!" ... 
 
 With difficulty they arrived at last at the priest's house. 
 There, after he had been bathed and washed from the blood 
 and filth, he was placed in the bed of the priest, who went 
 immediately to join the expedition. 
 
 Though Skshetuski was scarcely conscious he could not 
 sleep at once because of the fever; he did not know where he 
 was or what had happened. He heard only a humming noise, 
 the clatter of hoofs, the rumble of wagons, the thundering 
 tread of infantry, shouts, and sounds of trumpets; all this was 
 mingled in his ears with one great roar. "The army is de- 
 parting," he murmured to himself repeatedly. 
 
 Meanwhile the roar gradually grew fainter and died away, 
 till at last deep silence fell upon Toporov. 
 
 Now it seemed to Skshetuski as if he were sinking with his 
 bed deeper and deeper into a bottomless abyss. 
 
CHAPTEE Vin. 
 
 Skshetuski slept for several days, and even when he awoke, 
 the fever had not left him, and he was delirious for a long 
 time; he talked of Zbaraj, the prince, the chief of Krasnos- 
 tavsk; he conversed with Pan Michael and Zagloba, he shouted 
 to Longin, "not that way;" but the name of the princess was 
 not mentioned by him. It was clear that the great power 
 with which he had enclosed her memory in his innermost heart, 
 did not forsake him even in his state of weakness and sick- 
 ness. He seemed to see the chubby face of Jendzian bending 
 over him, just as he saw it when the prince, after the battle 
 of Konstantinov, had sent him with some squadrons to Zaslav 
 to disperse the crowds of rebels, and Jendzian had appeared 
 to him unexpectedly in his quarters. The sight of this face 
 confused his mind for he felt as if time had stood still and 
 that nothing had changed since that period. He thought he 
 was again on the Khomora and sleeping in the hut, then he 
 thought that he awoke and was marching with the troops to 
 Tarnopol . . . Kshyvonos, beaten at Konstantinov and fly- 
 ing to Khmyelnitski. Jendzian had come from Hushch and 
 was sitting hy him. . . . Skshetuski wishes to speak to him, 
 to order the lad to saddle the horses, but he cannot. . . . 
 Again he thinks that he is not on the Khomora, that since 
 then Bar has been taken, — at this he grinds his teeth in pain, 
 and his unhappy thoughts are lost in the void that follows. 
 He knows nothing, sees nothing, then out of the chaos there 
 arises Zbaraj: . . . the siege. ... He is not then on the 
 Khomora. Yet Jendzian is by him, bending over him. 
 Tlirough an opening in the window shutter there came a ray 
 of daylight, lighting the face of the lad, full of anxiety and 
 sympathy. 
 
 "Jendzian!" exclaimed Skshetuski, suddenly. 
 
 "Oh, my master, do you at last recognize me?" cried the 
 lad, and fell upon his knees. "I thought that my master 
 would never wake any more." . . 
 
 A period of silence followed, naught could be heard save 
 the sobbing of the lad, who embraced the feet of his master. 
 800 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 8oi 
 
 "Where am I?" asked Skshetuski. 
 
 "In Toporov .... my master came from Zbaraj to the 
 king." . . 
 
 "God be praised, God be praised!" 
 
 "And where is the king?" 
 
 "He has gone with the army to rescue the prince." 
 
 Again silence followed. Tears of joy ran down Jendzian's 
 face, and after a time he began to repeat: 
 
 "God be praised that I look upon your face again." . . . 
 
 Then he arose and opened the window and the shutters. 
 The brisk morning air entered the chamber and with it the 
 bright light of day. With the light Skshetuski fully regained 
 his senses. . . . 
 
 Jendzian sat down at the foot of the bed. 
 
 "Then I came from Zbaraj?" asked the knight. 
 
 "You did, my master. Nobody else could have done what 
 you have done, and it was you that incited the king to go to 
 the rescue." 
 
 "Pan Podbipyenta attempted to get through before me, but 
 he perished." .... 
 
 "Oh! for God's sake! Pan Podbipyenta dead! such a gen- 
 erous and virtuous gentleman! It has nearly taken my breath 
 away. How did they vanquish such a giant?" 
 
 "They shot him to death with arrows." 
 
 "And Pan Volodiyovski, and Pan Zagloba?" 
 
 "They were well when I came away." 
 
 "Thanks be to God! they are my master's dear friends .... 
 but the priest has forbidden me to talk." . . . 
 
 Jendzian grew dumb and seemed to be turning over some- 
 thing in his mind. His chubby face gave evidence that he was 
 lost in reflection. After a time he said: 
 
 "My master!" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "I wonder what will be done with the fortune of Pan Pod- 
 bipyenta? He is said to have owned villages and boundless 
 wealth. Did he leave anything to his friends? for I hear that 
 he had no relatives." 
 
 Skshetuski did not answer; Jendzian noticed that the ques-' 
 tion did not please his master, and he began again as follows: 
 
 "God be praised that Pan Zagloba and Pan Volodiyovski 
 are well. I feared that they had fallen into the hands of the 
 Tartars .... we went through a lot of suffering together 
 .... but the priest has forbidden me to talk. . . . Oh, my 
 
 51 
 
8o2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 master, I thought that I should never see them again, for the 
 Tartar horde pressed so closely upon us that we knew not 
 what to do/"' 
 
 "Then you were with Pan Volodiyovski and Zagloba? They 
 did not say anything to me about it." 
 
 "For they did not know whether I was saved or not." 
 
 "Then where did the horde press so closely upon you?" 
 
 "Beyond Ploskir, on the way to Zbaraj. We had made our 
 way far beyond Yampol, my master, . . . but the priest has 
 forbidden me to talk." 
 
 Silence intervened again. 
 
 "God reward you for your good will and trouble," said 
 Skshetuski, "for I know why you went there; I was there 
 before you . . . but in vain." 
 
 "Oh, my master, if it were not for the priest But 
 
 this is what he said: 'I must go with the king to Zbaraj and 
 you (he said) look after the noble, but tell him nothing lest 
 his soul should leave his body.' " 
 
 Skshetuski had so long since given up all hope, that these 
 words of Jendzian"s did not excite him in any way. . . . He 
 lay motionless for awhile and then he asked: 
 
 "How did you come to be here with the priest and the 
 army?" 
 
 "The wife of the castellan of Sandomir, Pani Vitovska, sent 
 me from Zamost to inform the castellan that she would join 
 him at Toporov. . . She is a brave woman, sir, and desires 
 above all to be with the army so as not to be separated from 
 the Castellan. Thus I arrived here a day before my master: 
 by this time she ought to be here also; . . . but this will be 
 useless if the castellan has gone away with the kins:." 
 
 "I can't understand how you could be in Zamost if you were 
 beyond Yampol « ith Volodiyovski and Zagloba. ^Tiy did 
 you not come with them to Zbaraj ?" 
 
 "You see, my master, when the horde pressed so closely 
 upon us. there wi.s no other way; they were obliged to cheek 
 the horde while I fled on and did not draw rein until I reached 
 Zamost." 
 
 "It is lucky that they did not perish," said Skshetuski, "for 
 T thought that you were a better man. Was it right to leave 
 them in such a strait?" 
 
 "T. my master, had we been only three, I would surely not 
 have left them, .... my heart cuts me . . but there 
 
 were four of us; . they threw themselves against the horde 
 
WITE FIRE AND -SWOBD. 803 
 
 and ordered me .... to escape .... if I were sure that 
 joy that would not kill you .... for we found beyond 
 Yampol .... but the priest . . . . " 
 
 Skshetuski stared at the lad and rubbed his eyes as one who 
 awakens from sleep; suddenly he felt as if something had 
 broken within him, he grew pale as a corpse, sat up in bed 
 and cried in a voice of thunder: 
 
 "Sir, oh sir," exclaimed the lad, frightened by the change 
 that had taken place in the face of the knight. 
 
 "Who was with you?" cried Skshetuski, seizing the boy by 
 the shoulder, shaking him, holding him with a clutch like 
 iron, while he himself shook as if taken with a chill. 
 
 "I will tell," cried Jendzian, "let the priest do what he 
 pleases. The lady was with us and she is now with Pani 
 Vitovska." 
 
 Skshetuski grew rigid, he closed his eyes and fell back upon 
 the pillows. 
 
 "Help!" cried Jendzian, "my master has breathed his last. 
 Help! what have I done! Oh, that I had kept my mouth shut! 
 My God! my most dear master, speak but one word . . . .for 
 God's sake! the priest was right to forbid. My master! Oh, 
 .... my master!" .... 
 
 "It's nothing," said Skshetuski, "where is she?" 
 
 "Praise be to God that you have regained your senses .... 
 my master. It is better that I speak no more. She is with 
 the wife of the Castellan of Sandomierz, you will see them 
 
 soon .... any moment Thanks be to God! . . . . 
 
 only do not die, sir; they must be here. We fled to Zamost, 
 there the Priest gave her to Pani Vitovska for property. . . . 
 for there are insubordinate men in the army. Bohun honored 
 her; .... I had much trouble on the way .... but I told 
 the soldiers 'that she was a relative of Prince Yeremy,' and 
 they respected her as such. ... I also had to spend con- 
 siderable money on the way." .... 
 
 Skshetuski lay motionless again, but his open eyes were 
 directed towards the ceiling, his face was very serious and one 
 could see that he was praying. When he had finished he rose 
 and said: 
 
 "Give me my clothes and have the horse ready." 
 
 "Where do you intend to go?" 
 
 "Give me my clothes, quickly." 
 
 "If my master only knew, there are plenty of clothes for 
 him, for the king ordered some before he went away, and 
 
80^ WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 other gentlemen also. And there are three fine horses in 
 the stable. ... if I only had one like them. . but 
 
 it were better that my master should lay down and rest for 
 awhile longer, for there is none whatever strength left in 
 you.'" 
 
 "Nothing ails me, I can sit on my horse, by the living 
 God! make haste 1" 
 
 "I know well that my maf^ters body is of iron, let it be 
 as he commands. I only ask, my master, that you will pro- 
 tect me from the priest, Tsietsiskovski . . Here are some 
 clothes, better ones cannot be procured from the Armenian 
 merchants. Dress yourself while I get some food for you, 
 for I ordered the priest's servant to prepare some." 
 
 Jendzian busied himself with the food, while Skshetuski 
 dressed himself hastily in the clothes that the king had 
 ordered for him. From time to time he seized the lad and 
 pressed him to his breast, and the boy told him evcrytliing 
 from beginning. How he had met Bohun in Voldava, who 
 was then convalescing from wounds inflicted upon him by 
 Yolodiyovski; how he had learned from him the whereabouts 
 of the princess and how he had acquired the safe conduct; 
 how he had gone with Yolodiyovski and Zagloba to the 
 ravines at YaladjTika and how, after killing Cheremis and the 
 witch, they had rescued the princess; and finally what danger 
 they were in while fleeing before the soldiers of Burlay. 
 
 "That Burlay was killed by Pan Zagloba," interrupted 
 Skshetuski, feverishly. 
 
 "He is a brave man," answered Jendzian; "I have never 
 seen the like of him. for one is brave, another eloquent, a 
 third frolicsome, but Pan Zagloba unites all these qualities 
 in one person. But the worst experience we had, dear sir, 
 was in the woods about Ploskirov when the horde pursued 
 us. Pan Michael and Pan Zagloba remained behind in order 
 to draw the attack upon themselves and thus delay the pur- 
 suers. I, however, rode towards Konstantinov, avoiding 
 Zbaraj; for I thought that after they had killed the little 
 gentleman and Pan Zagloba, they would surely pursue us 
 in the direction of Zbaraj. I can't understand how God 
 saved the two gentlemen. ... I thought that they must 
 have been killed. I and the princess slipped through between 
 Khmyelnitski's forces who were approaching from Konstan- 
 tinov, and Zbaraj, under whom the Tartars were marching." 
 
 "They did not go there immediately, for Pan Kushel beat 
 them hack. But speak faster." 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. §05 
 
 "If I had only known that; but as I did not know it I 
 pushed on with the princess between the Tartars and Cos- 
 sacks, as through a defile. Fortunately the region was deso- 
 late, and nowhere did we find a living being, neither in 
 villages nor towns, for all had fled. But 1 was half dead from 
 fear that the Tartars would catch me, nor did I escape this 
 fate either." 
 
 Skshetuski stopped dressing himself and asked: "How 
 was that?" 
 
 "It was this way, my master. I met a division of Cossacks 
 under Donyets, the brother of that Horpyna with whom the 
 princess was lodged in the retreat. Fortunately I knew him 
 well, for he had seen me with Bohun. I brought him me,=- 
 sages from his sister, showed him the baton from Bohun, and 
 told him all, how Bohun had sent me for the princess, and 
 that he was waiting for me beyond Vlodava and he believed 
 me, for he was Bohun's friend and knew that his sister was 
 guarding the princess; I thought that he would let me pass 
 but he said: 'Over there the general militia is gathering; you 
 will surely fall into the hands of the Poles; stay with me; 
 we ■\\ill go to Khmyelnitski, the lady will be safest in his 
 camp, for Khmyelnitski himself will watch over her for 
 Bohun.' When he spoke thus I was dumbfounded for what 
 could I answer? but I told him that Bohun was waiting for 
 me and that my head was at stake if I did not bring Ihe 
 princess ai: once. Then he said: 'we will inform Bohun, but 
 o\cr there are the Poles.' I argued with him until he finally 
 said '1 wonder why you are so afraid to go to. the Cossacks — • 
 are you a traitor?" Then I saw that nothing remained but 
 to flee during the night, for he had already begun to suspect 
 me. I had everything in readiness for the road when Pan 
 Pelka with some royal troops, fell upon Donyets that night." 
 
 "Pan Pclka?" cried Skshetuski, holding his breath. 
 
 "Yes, my master, he was a great soldier, too bad that he 
 is fallen — the Lord have mercy on his soul! I do not know 
 if anyone could lead an attacking party better than he — 
 perhaps only Pan Volodiyovski. But Pan Pelka came and 
 made such a sweep that not a man got away and even Don- 
 yets himself was captured. A few weeks ago he was drawn 
 by oxen to the stake — and it served him right. But even 
 with Pan Pelka I had plenty of trouble, for he was a man 
 
 who had no respect for virtue God rest his soul! 
 
 I feared that the princess, who had just been rescued from 
 
8o6 WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 the Cossacks, would meet a worse fate among our own men. 
 . But when I told him that she was a relative of the 
 Prince, it checked his designs. I must tell you, my master, 
 that ^^'heneve^ I mentioned the name of our prince, he took 
 off his cap and spoke of entering his serrice, therefore he 
 respected the princess and led us to the king in Zamost. 
 There, the priest Tsietsishovski (a very holy man) took us 
 under his protection and placed the princess under the guard- 
 ianship of Pani Vitovska." 
 
 Skshetuski took a deep breath and embraced Jendzian 
 heartily. "You shall be my friend, my brother, and not my 
 servant. But now let us get away. When ought Pani 
 Vitovski to arrive here?" 
 
 "She should have come a week after me. . it is 
 
 now ten days. for eight days my master lay without 
 
 consciousness." 
 
 "Let us depart, let us depart," repeated Skshetuski, "for 
 my heart is bursting with joy." 
 
 But ere he had finished speaking the clatter of horses was 
 heard in the j-ard and the window was suddenly darkened 
 by the forms of horses and men. Through the glass Skshe- 
 tuski saw first the old priest Tsietsishovski, then beside him 
 the emaciated faces of Zagloba, Yolodiyovski, Kushel, and 
 other acquaintances among the red dragoons of the prince. 
 A shout of joy resounded, and the next moment a number 
 of knights headed by the priest, crowded into the room. 
 
 "Peace has been concluded at Zborov, and the siege has 
 been raised," exclaimed the priest. 
 
 Skshetuski had guessed this on seeing his comrades from 
 Zbaraj ; soon he was in the arms of Zagloba, and Yolodiyovski, 
 who embraced him in turn. 
 
 "We were informed that 3'ou were alive," exclaimed Za- 
 globa, "but our joy is all the greater that we find you looking 
 so well, ^ye have come here on purpose to see you. . 
 Yan! You have no idea what glory you have achieved and 
 what reward awaits you."" 
 
 "The king has rewarded you," said the priest, 'Hbut the 
 King of Things has still more in store for you." 
 
 "I know it already," replied Skshetuski. "God reward 
 you for it! Jendzian has told me all."" 
 
 "And the joy did not suffocate you? that's good. Long 
 live Skshetuski! long live the princess!"' cried Zagloba. "We 
 did not say a word to you, Yani, because we did not kncvr 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 807 
 
 whether she lived. But the lad has rescued her bravely; 
 what a clever fox! The prince awaits you both. Oh, we went 
 for her beyond Yahorlik. I killed that infernal monster 
 that guarded her. Those twelve boys r-,m away but you will 
 overtake them. 1 shall have grandchildren, gentlemen. 
 Jendzian, speak, what difficulties did you overcome? Just 
 imagine, we two, including Pan Michael, held back the entire 
 horde. I was the first to throw myself against the whole 
 force. They hid in caves, but it was of no avail. Pan Michael 
 too, stood by bravely. . . . Where is my little daughter? 
 G-ive me my little daughter." 
 
 "God give you happiness, Yani, God give you happiness," 
 said the little knight, embracing Skshetuski once more. 
 
 "God reward you for all you have done for me! I cannot 
 thank you with vs^ords. My life and blood could not repay 
 you," answered Skshetuski. 
 
 "That's not worth speaking of," exclaimed Zagloba. 
 Peace is established! A miserable peace, but what could be 
 done? we ought to rejoice that we are out of that pestilent 
 Zbaraj. But we are delivered now, gentlemen. That Was 
 our work, and mine, for if Burlay were living yet all nego- 
 tiations would be in vain. We shall go to the wedding. 
 Then, Yani, keep your eyes open. You cannot guess w'hat 
 a wedding-present the prince has prepared for you? I'll 
 tell you about it at another time. But where is my little 
 daughter? The devil! Give me my little daughter. Bohun 
 cannot take her away from us again; he would first have 
 to break the fetters that bind him. Where is my dearest little 
 daughter?" 
 
 "I was just about to mount to go to meet Pani Sando- 
 mierska," said Skshetuski. "Let us go, let us go! or I shall 
 lose my senses." 
 
 "Hayda, gentlemen, let us ride with him, let us lose no 
 time, Hayda!" 
 
 "Pani Sandomierska cannot be far away," said the priest. 
 
 "To horse!" cried Pan Michael. 
 
 But already Skshetuski was outside the door and threw 
 himself upon his horse in a manner that gave no evidence of 
 his recent illness. 
 
 Jendzian kept close to his side; he preferred not to be left 
 alone with the priest. Pan Michael and Zagloba joined them 
 and thus they galloped at the head of a party of nobles and 
 red dragoons, who flew along the Toporoy road like poppy 
 leaves driven by the wind. 
 
8o8 WITB FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "Hayda!" shouted Zagloba, digging his heels into his 
 horse. 
 
 Thus they rushed along for about ten furlongs when they 
 beheld at a turn of the road a line of wagons and carriages 
 escorted by a few dozens of attendants. Some of these rode 
 ahead when they saw a body of armed men, in order to in- 
 quire who they were. 
 
 "Soldiers of the royal army," shouted Zagloba, "and whom 
 do you escort?'' 
 
 "The lady of the Pani Oastellanova Sandomierska," was 
 shouted in reply. 
 
 Skshetuski was so overcome by agitation that, not knowing 
 what he was doing, Le slid from his horse and stood tottering 
 by the roadside. He took off his cap, perspiration ran over 
 his temples, and the knight who had bravely faced all danger, 
 now trembled in every limb, in sight of his happiness. Pan 
 Michael also sprang from his saddle and supported the feeble 
 knight in his arms. 
 
 Following their example all stood with bared heads by the 
 roadside, while the line of wagons and carriages began to 
 pass by them. Pani Vitovska was accompanied by a number 
 of ladies who looked with wonder at the row of knights and 
 soldiers, and asked each other what it all meant. 
 
 At lergtli in the midst of the train a carriage appeared, 
 more richly decorated than the others. Through its open 
 window the knights beheld the dignified counteance of an 
 elderly lady and beside her the sweet, beautiful face of the 
 princess Kurtsevich. 
 
 "^My Uttle daughter," cried out Zagloba, throwing himself 
 blindly against the carriage, "my little daughter, Skshetuski 
 is here! . . . Little daughter!" 
 
 Shouts of "Halt! halt!"' were heard, confusion arose, then 
 Kushel and VolodiyovsM led or rather dragged Skshetuski to 
 the carriage. He had grown weaker and weaker, and hung 
 with ever-increasing weight in their arms. His head sank 
 upon his breast, he could go no further and collapsed by the 
 step of the carriage. 
 
 A moment later the strong and beautiful arms of princess 
 Kurtsevich raised up the weai, emaciated head of the knight. 
 
 Zagloba, observing the amazement of Pani Sandomierska 
 cried out: 
 
 "This is Skshetuski, the hero of Zbaraj. He stole through 
 the enemy, he saved the army, the prince, the entire Com- 
 monwealth. God bless them both! long may they live!'' 
 
WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD. 809 
 
 "Long may they live!" shouted the nobles. 
 
 "Long may they live!" roared the dragoons, in tones of 
 thunder that echoed over the fields of Toporov. . . . 
 
 "To Tarnopol! to the prince! to the wedding!" cried Za- 
 globa. "Now my little daughter, your sorrows are over! 
 . . . for Bohun there remains the executioner and the 
 sword." 
 
 The priest had raised his eyes towards the heavens and 
 his lips repeated the inspired utterance "They that sow in 
 tears shall reap in joy. . . " 
 
 Skshetuski was placed in the carriage beside the princess 
 and the retinue moved on. The day was beautiful, the oak 
 groves and field swere bathed in sunshine. Low down on 
 the stubble fields, on the fallow lands and higher above them, 
 and still higher in the blue air, there waved here and there 
 the silvery threads of spider's webs, which late in the fall 
 cover the fields in that country as if with snow. And peace 
 reigned all about, only the snorting of the horses in the train 
 disturbed the general quiet. 
 
 "Pan Michael!" said Zagloba, pushing his stirrup against 
 that of Volodiyovski, "somethng has seized me by the throat 
 again, and holds me fast, as when Pan Podbipyenta — God 
 grant him eternal rest! — departed from Zbaraj. But when 
 I think that these two have found each other at last, I feel 
 as light-hearted as if I had drunk a quart of Petertsiment wine 
 at a draught. If married life does not become your lot, you 
 shall in your old age educate their children. Everyone is 
 born for some special object. Pan Michael; we two are better 
 fitted for war than for married life." 
 
 The little knight did not answer but twirled his moustaches 
 vigorously. 
 
 They were bound to Toporov and thence to Tarnopol where 
 they were to join Prince Yeremy, and proceed with him to 
 Lemberg for the wedding. On the way Zagloba told the 
 Pani Sandomierska all that had happened recently. She 
 learned that the king after a bloody but indecisive battle, near 
 Zborov had made a treaty with the Khan, not a very favor- 
 able one, but which secured peace for a time to the Com- 
 mon wealth. Khmyelnitski, by virtue of the treaty, remained 
 Hetman of the Zaporojians and had the right to select and 
 organize a standing army of forty thousand men, from the 
 mass of common people, after s.wearing an oath of fealty to 
 the king and State. 
 
gio WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 "It is beyond doubt," said Zagloba, "that war with Khmy- 
 elnitski will break out anew, but if our prince only receives 
 the supreme command, then all will be right. . 
 
 "Why do you not tell Sk^hetuski the most important 
 news?" said the little knight, bringing his horse nearer. 
 
 "That's true," said Zagloba. "1 wished to tell him at the 
 outset, but could hardly catch mv breath until now. You 
 of course know nothing. Yani, of what happened after yoiu 
 departure. The prince has captured Bohun." 
 
 Skshetuski and Panna Kurtsevieh were so much aston- 
 ished at these words that they could not speak, they only- 
 raised their hands: then after a few moments Skshetuski 
 asked: 
 
 "How, by what means?" 
 
 "The finger of God is evidenced," replied Zagloha, "noth- 
 ing else but the finger of God. The treaty already had been 
 concluded and we were just marching out from that pestilent 
 ZbaraJ, when the prince hastened with the cavalry to the 
 left wing lest some horde should make an attack. . . . 
 for the Tartars often disregard treaties. Suddenly 
 
 a band of three hundred horsemen attacked the entire cavalry 
 of the prince." 
 
 "Bohun alone would dare that," exclaimed Skshetuski. 
 
 "It was he. But t'nssacks caunot cope with the soldiers of 
 Zbaraj. Pan Michael soon completely surrounded them and 
 cut them down to the last man; Bohun was captured after 
 being again wounded. He has no luck with Pan Michael; 
 he himself must be convinced of that now, for this was the 
 third encounter. Probably he was seeking death." 
 
 '"It appeared," interrupted Pan ilichael, "that Bohun had 
 hastened from Yalad\Tika to Zbaraj. It was a long journey, 
 however, and when he learned that a treaty had alreadv been 
 concluded, he lost his senses from rage and disregarded every- 
 thing." 
 
 "He who draws the sword will perish by the sword, for 
 such is the nature of things," said ZaglolM, "he is a mad 
 Cossack, hut boldest when most in danger. A quaxrel arose 
 between us and that gang of robbers an his account. We 
 thought that war would break out anew, for the prince cried 
 out that the treaty had been broken. Khymelnitski wanted 
 to save Bohun, but the Khan was very much enraged at 
 him, for he, according to the Khan's own words, Tias brought 
 my word and my oath into contempt.' The Khan threatened 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. gu 
 
 to make war upon Khmyelnitski and sent a messenger to 
 our prince saying that Bohun was a common robber and re- 
 questing that he be treated accordingly. It is said that it 
 was also the Khan's aim that the Tartars should lead away 
 in quiet their captives, of which they had taken so many 
 that they would be sold in Stambul for two hobnails a m'an." 
 
 "What did the prince do with Bohun?" asked Skshetuski, 
 impatiently. 
 
 "The prince had alreay ordered a stake to be pointed for 
 him when he changed his mind and said 'I will present him 
 to Skshetuski, he may do as he pleases with him.' Now the 
 Cossack is in a dungeon at Tarnopol, the barber-surgeon is 
 bandaging his head. My God! how often his soul tried to 
 run away from him! No dogs ever worried the skin of a 
 wolf as we have his. Pan Michael alone bit him three times. 
 But he's a hard nut to crack, and to tell the truth an un- 
 fortunate man. May the hangman help him! I bear him 
 no ill-will, though he was furiously incensed against me and 
 for no cause. Why, I drank with him and took his part 
 as if he were my equal, till he raised his hand against you, 
 my little daughter. I could easily have done for him at 
 Eozloga. But there are very few who pay good for good, 
 and there is little gratitude in this world. May the — " 
 
 Here Zagloba began to nod his head. "And what will 
 you do with him, Pan Yan?" he asked, "the soldiers say 
 that you will certainly make an outrider of him, for he has 
 a fine appearance; but I cannot believe that you will deal 
 with him in such a fashion." 
 
 "Certainly I shall not," answered Skshetuski, "he is a sol- 
 dier and a valiant knight, and because he is unfortunate is 
 no reason for disgracing him with menial service." 
 
 "May God forgive him everything," said the princess. 
 
 "Amen!" said Zagloba. "He prays for death to rescue 
 him, and he could have found it had he not come late to 
 ZbaraJ." 
 
 All grew silent and occupied themselves with their own 
 thoughts until in the distance appeared Grabova, where they 
 made their first halt for refreshments. There they found a 
 number of soldiers returning from Zborov. Pan Vitovski, 
 the Castellan Sandomierski, had also come there with his 
 regiment to meet his wife, and with him was the Chief of 
 Krasnostavsk Pan Pshiyemski, a number of nobles of the 
 general militia, who were on their way home. The court 
 
gl2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 at Grabova had been burned down as well as all the other 
 buildings, but the day was warm and bright; so that no 
 shelter was necessary, s» they disposed themselves in an oak- 
 grove under the open sky. Ample stores of food and drink 
 had been brought along and the servants immediately set 
 about preparing supper. Pan Sandomierski ordered tents 
 to be pitched for the ladies and dignitaries, and soon a regular 
 eamp was arranged. The knights crowded before the tents 
 to get a look at Skshetuski and the princess. Others dis- 
 cussed the late war; those who were not at Zbaraj, but at 
 Zborov, asked the prince's men for the particulars of the 
 siege. Everyone was joyous and gay, especially as the day 
 was so beautiful. 
 
 Zagloba of course, did most of the talking among the 
 nobles, telling for the thousandth time how he had killed 
 Burlay; and Jendzian among the servants who were prepar- 
 ing the meal. But the clever lad found a fit opportunity 
 to draw Skshetuski aside and humbly embracing his knees, 
 he said: 
 
 "My Lord! I should like to ask a favor of you." 
 
 "I could hardly refuse you anything," answered Skshe- 
 tuski, "since through you I have regained what is dearest 
 to me." 
 
 "I thought at once," said the lad, "that your lordship 
 would grant me the favor." 
 
 "Speak, what is your wish?" 
 
 Jendzian's chubby face grew dark, and hatred and revenge 
 were reflected in his eyes. 
 
 "I ask but one favor, nothing more," said he, "and that 
 is that your Lordship give Bohun to me." 
 
 "Bohun?" asked Skshetuski, in great astonishment. "What 
 do you want to do with him?" 
 
 "It is ever in my mind, my Lord, that I get my revenge, 
 and that I pay him back, with compound interest, for the 
 disgrace he inflicted upon me in Chigrin. I knew also that 
 your Lordship will put him to death, and therefore I wish 
 to settle with him first." 
 
 Skshetuski frowned. 
 
 "It cannot be," he said with decision. 
 
 "Oh, my God! would that I had died," said Jendzian, in 
 piteous tones. "Have I lived only to be disgraced?" 
 
 "Ask anything else," said Skshetuski, "and I will not refuse 
 it, but I cannot grant this request. Go home and ^k your 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. gj, 
 
 parents if it is not more sinful to fuliill such a vow than to 
 give it up. Do not thrust your own revengeful hand before 
 God's lest it fall also upon you. You should be ashamed of 
 yourself, Jendzian! That man is praying for death and is 
 wounded and in bondage. Do you wish to be his execu- 
 tioner, to torment him? do you wish to put shame upon a 
 prisoner, or to butcher a wounded man? Why, are you a 
 Tartar or a Cossack butcher! as I live I cannot allow this! 
 Don't mention it to me again!" 
 
 So much power and firmness of will was evidenced in Pan 
 Yan's voice that the lad lost all hope of gaining his request; 
 he only said, in a sorrowful voice: 
 
 "Were he well, he could vanquish two of my size with 
 ease, and now that he is ill, 1 am not permitted to have my 
 revenge — when can I pay him back?" 
 
 "Leave vengeance to God," said Skshetuski. 
 
 The lad opened his mouth; he evidently wanted to say 
 so'mething more, to ask something, but Pan Yan had already 
 turned towards the tents, before which a numerous company 
 had assembled. Pani Vitovska sat in the centre with the 
 princess at her side, and around them the knights. In front 
 of them stood Zagloba, bareheaded, and engaged in telling 
 those who had been only at Zborov all about the siege of 
 Zbaraj. All listened to him with breathless attention; emo- 
 tion was portrayed on their faces and those who had not 
 been at Zbaraj regretted their absence. Pan Yan took a 
 seat beside the princess and grasping her hand, pressed it 
 to his lips; then they leaned against each other arm in arm 
 and sat quietly. The sun was setting and gradually evening 
 was coming on. Skshetuski listened as attentively as if some- 
 thing new to him was being related. Zagloba mopped his 
 forehead and his voice grew louder. Memory or imagination 
 pictured those terrible scenes to the knights. They beheld 
 the ramparts surrounded by a turbulent sea of men, and the 
 mad assaults; they heard the tumult, the howls, the thunder 
 of cannon, the rattle of musketry; they beheld the prince in 
 his silver armor, standing upon the ramparts amidst a showei' 
 of bullets. . . . then the suffering, the famine, those 
 blood-red nights during which death circled like a huge 
 spectral bird above the camp. ... the departure of Pan 
 Longin Podbipyenta and of Skshetuski .... All lis- 
 tened with rapt attention, at times raising their eyes to 
 heaven, or grasping their swords, and Zagloba ended as fol- 
 lows: 
 
g,^^ WITH FIRE AyO SWORD. 
 
 "It is now but one grave, one great tomb, and that under 
 it do not lie buried the honor of the Commonwealth, the 
 flower of its knighthood, the prince, and I, and all of us, 
 whom even the Cossacks called Zbaraj lions, is due to this 
 man here I" 
 
 Then he pointed at Skshetuski. 
 
 "As I live, that is true!" exclaimed in one voice Marek, 
 Sobieski and Pan Pshiyemski. 
 
 "Glory to him! honor and thanks!"" shouted the assembled 
 knights in thundering tones. "Vivat Sksehtuski! Vivat 
 the young couple! long live the hero!"' Each time they 
 shouted more loudly. 
 
 A wave of enthusiasm spread through the assemblage. 
 Some ran for goblets, others threw their caps in the air. The 
 soldiers began to rattle their sabres and there arose a general 
 shout. 
 
 ■"Glory! glory! long may he live! long may he live!"" 
 
 Skshetuski, like a true Christian knight, bowed his head 
 in humility; but the princess rose, shook her tresses, her 
 cheeks aflame, and her eyes gleaming with pride, for tliis 
 knight was to become her husband, and the glory of the hus- 
 band falls upon the wife like the sun"s light upon the earth. 
 Late that night the assembly broke up and started away in 
 two directions. The Vitovskis, Pan Pshiyemski and the Chief 
 of Krasnostavsk marched with their regiments towards 
 Toporov, while Skshetuski, with the princess and Pan 
 iliehaeFs squadron, went on to Tamopol. The night was 
 as bright as day. Myriads of stars gleamed in the heavens: 
 the moon rose and silvered the cob-web covered flelds. The 
 soldiers began to sing; later, light mists arose from the 
 meadows and made the whole region look like a great lake 
 gleaming in the moonlight. 
 
 On such a night Skshetuski had gone forth from Zbaraj, 
 and now on such another night he felt the heart of the 
 princess beating against his own. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 815 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 This historic tragedy, however, did not end either at 
 Zbaraj or at Zborov. Even the first act was not concluded. 
 Two years later the Cossacks rose again in rebellion against 
 the Commonwealth. Khymelnitsld took the field mightier 
 than ever before, and with him marched the Khan with all 
 his hordes, and the same leaders who before surrounded 
 Zbaraj — the wild Tukhay Bey, Urum Murza, and Artim, 
 (iirey, Nur-ed-Din, and Galgi, and Amurad, and Subagazi. 
 flighty pillars of flame and lamentations of people maiked 
 their path. Thousands of warriors covered the fields, filled 
 the forests; from half a million throats there issued war-cries, 
 and it seemed to the people that the last hour of the Common- 
 wealth had come. 
 
 But the Commonwealth too, had shaken off its lethargy. 
 The chancellor's former policy of establishing peace by means 
 of treaties had been abandoned. It was now clear that the 
 sword alone could insure peace of long duration. So, when 
 the king advanced against the inundating enemy, an army 
 of one hundred thousand soldiers and nobles marched with 
 him, besides swarms of irregulars and camp-servants. 
 
 IvTot one of the characters of our story was missing. There 
 was Prince Visnyovyetski with his entire division, in which, 
 as formerly, served Skshetuski and Volodiyovski; there were 
 the two hetmans Pototski and Kalinovski, who then had 
 been ransomed from the Tartars. There was also Colonel 
 Stefan Charmyetski, subsequently the scourge of King 
 Charles Gustavus of Sweden, and Pshiyemski commander of 
 the whole artillery; and general ITbald, Pan Artsishevski, and 
 the Chief of Krasnostavsk; and his brother, the Chief of 
 Yavrov, afterwards King Yan III, and Ludvig Veyher, the 
 voyevoda of Pomerania, and Jacob voyevoda of Marburg, 
 and the standard bearer Konetspolski; and Prince Dominik 
 Zaslavski, the bishops and dignitaries of the Crown — sena- 
 tors — the whole Commonwealth with the chief leader, the 
 King. 
 
 On the fields of Berestechka at last myriads of the hostile 
 armies met, and one of the greatest battles in the history of 
 
gl6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 the world was fought. Throughout Europe its echoes re- 
 sounded. 
 
 It lasted for three days. During the first two days for- 
 tune hung in the balance, on the third a general engagement 
 decided the battle. Prince Yeremy began that engagement. 
 At the head of the entire left wing, bareheaded and without 
 arms, he swept like a cyclone against enormous masses formed 
 of mounted Zaporojians, from all the Crimea, Tartars, 
 Nogoais, Byalogorods and Silistrian and Rumelian Turks, 
 Urumbalis, janissaries, Serbs, Wallachians, Peryerovs, and 
 other wild warriors gathered from the Ural the Caspian Sea 
 and the marshes of Moeotis as far as the Danube. 
 
 As a river loses itself in the foaming waves of the sea, so 
 the squadrons of the prince were lost in that ocean of < ne- 
 mies. A cloud of dust rolled over the plain like a whirl- 
 wind and enveloped the combatants. 
 
 The rest of the army and the king looked en upon this 
 superhuman struggle, and the vice, chancellor Leshch)Tiski 
 raised aloft the wood of the Holy Cross and blessed with it 
 the vanished squadrons. 
 
 Meanwhile on the other side the entire Cossack camp, con- 
 sisting of about two hundred thousand men, moved slowly 
 against the royal army, issuing from the woods like a dragon, 
 and vomiting fire from their cannon. 
 
 But ere the bulk of the enemy had issued from the clouds 
 of dust in which Yeremy's squadrons had disappeared, horse- 
 men began one by one to drop away from their ranks, then 
 hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands, and these all 
 rushed to the hill held by the Khan and his chosen guards. 
 The wild masses fled in mad terror and disorder — ^the Polish 
 squadrr s chasing them. Thousands of Cassacks and Tar- 
 tars covered the battle-field; among them, pierced through 
 by a double-handled sword, lay the mortal enemy of the Poles 
 and the faithful ally of the Cossacks, the wild, brave Tukhay 
 Bey. 
 
 The terrible prince had triumphed. 
 
 The king looked upon the prince's victory with the eve 
 of a leader and determined to crush the hordes before the 
 Cossacks could arrive. The entirf> army was set in motion, 
 all the cannon roared, spreading death and destruction. Soon 
 the brother of the Khan, the spkndid Amurad fell with a 
 bulUet in his breast. The hordes broke out in a howl of 
 terror. The Khan, who had been wounded at the very out- 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 817 
 
 set of the battle, looked with dismay upon the field. From 
 the distance amid the thunder of cannon came Pshiyemski 
 and the king himself; the earth groaned beneath the weight 
 of the onrushing cavalry. 
 
 Islam-Girey stricken with terror did not await the attack, 
 but fled, and aiter him all the hordes, the Volosha, the Urum- 
 balo, the Zaporojian Cossack cavalry, the Silistrian Turks, 
 and the Turkish converts fled like a cloud before the tempest. 
 
 Khymelnitski in desperation overtook the fugitives, and 
 begged and implored the Khan tO' return to the battle, but 
 the Khan, bellowing with rage at the sight of him ordered 
 the Tartars to seize him and bind him to a horse, and thus 
 he was borne along. 
 
 The Cossack camp alone was left, the commander of that. 
 Colonel of Kropivenski, Dziedzial, did not know what had 
 happened to Khmyelnitski; seeing however the defeat and 
 shameful flight of all the hordes, he stopped the advance, and 
 then retreating, he took up a position upon the swampy banks 
 of the Pleshov. 
 
 A terrible storm arose, immense torrents of water poured 
 down from the heavens; "God was washing the land after 
 a Just battle." 
 
 A drizzling rain lasted for several days and the royal army 
 rested after the battle of the previous day. The Cossacks 
 seized the occasion to surround their camp with ramparts 
 and thus transform it into a gigantic, moveable fortress. 
 
 When fair weather returned a siege began: the strangest 
 ever seen. 
 
 One hundred thousand royal troops besieged the army of 
 Dziedzial which numbered two hundred thousand men. 
 
 The king was short of cannon, provisions and ammunition. 
 Dziedzial had an inexhaustible supply of powder and pro- 
 visions, besides seventy cannon of heavier and lighter calibre. 
 
 But at the head of the royal army was the king. The Cos- 
 sacks had not Khmyelnitski. 
 
 The royal army was flushed with recent victory; the Cos- 
 sacks were in despair. 
 
 Several days passed. All hope of the return of Khmyel-- 
 nitski and the Khan vanished. 
 
 Then negotiations were entered into. The Cossack leaders 
 came 'and bowed their heads humbly before the king, pleaded 
 for mercy, haunted the tents of the Senators, clung to their 
 garments, and promised to find Khmyelnitski, wherever he 
 was even under the ground and deliver him to the king. 
 52 
 
8i8 WITB FIRE AXD SWORD. 
 
 The heart of Yan Kazimier was not obdurate. He was 
 willing to let the "blacks" and soldiers return to their homes, 
 provided they would surrender all the chiefs, for these he in- 
 tended to detain until Khmyelnitski should be given up. But 
 such a compact was not agreeable to the officers, who did not 
 look for forgiveness in view of their many offences. Hence 
 the struggle continued even while the negotiations were 
 going on; desperate attacks were made, and Polish and Cos- 
 sack blood flowed in torrents. 
 
 The Cossacks fought during the day, bravely and with the 
 courage of despair, but at night swarms of them stood before 
 the royal camp and howled for mercy. 
 
 Dziedzial was inclined to give in to the royal demands, 
 and was willing to sacrifice his own head if he could save 
 the people and soldiers. But dissensions arose in the Cossack 
 camp. Some wished to surrender, others wished to defend 
 themselves to the death; but all of them were planning how 
 to escape from the camp. But this seemed an impossibility 
 even to the boldest. The camp was enclosed by the forks of 
 the river and by great swamps. They might defend them- 
 selves for years, but to leave the camp there was only one 
 road, the road through the royal army. But no one thought 
 of that road. 
 
 The negotiations dragged on interrupted by battles. The 
 dissensions among the Cossacks grew apace. As the outcome 
 of one these Dziedzial was deposed from his office and a new 
 leader was chosen. 
 
 His name gave new courage to the despairing Cossacks; the 
 echo of it in the royal camp stirred in the hearts of several 
 knights half-forgotten memories of past sufferings and mis- 
 fortunes. 
 
 Bohun was the new leader's name. He had previouslv won 
 high distinction among the Cossacks both in the council and 
 in battle. The public sentiment had always indicated him as 
 the successor of Khmyelnitski. Bohun was the first of the 
 Cossack commanders to appear with the Tartars on the field 
 of Berestechka at the head of fifty thousand men. He took 
 part in the three-days cavalry combat, and though defeated 
 with the Khan and his hordes, by Yeremy, he had managed 
 to keep the greater part of his army together and to bring 
 it safeh- into camp. Xow the party opposed to the negotia- 
 tions made him commander-in-chief in place of Dziedzial 
 hoping that he might be able to save the camp and the army. 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 819 
 
 Indeed the young commander would not heax of negotia- 
 tions, he only wanted battl6 and bloodshed, even though he 
 should drown in the blood. But soon he was convinced that 
 with the troops under him it would be impossible to cut a 
 way through the army of the king. He therefore hit upon 
 another plan. History has preserved the memory of his un- 
 paralled efforts, considered by contemporaries worthy of a 
 hero, and which might have saved the army and the "blacks." 
 
 Bohun determined to bridge the swamps of Plesov and 
 thus enable the besieged to retreat over them. 
 
 Entire forests fell beneath the axes of the Cossacks and 
 sank into the swamp. Wagons, tents, skins, coats, were thrown 
 into the swamp, the bridge grew longer day by day. Nothing 
 seemed impossible to this commander. 
 
 The king delayed the assault in order to avoid bloodshed. 
 But when he saw this gigantic work he recognized that delay 
 was dangerous and issued an order that the army be in readi- 
 ness at evening for the final assault. 
 
 No one in the Cossack camp knew of this intention. The 
 bridge had been pushed onward during the night, and in the 
 morning, Bohun, with the chiefs, rode out to examine the 
 work. 
 
 It was Monday, July 7th, 1651. The morning was misty, 
 dawn in the east was blood red, the sun rose looking sickly 
 and bronze-colored; a peculiar bloody glow was in the woods 
 and over the water. 
 
 From the Polish camp they were driving the horses to pas- 
 ture; the Cossack camp was astir and resounded with the 
 voices of men. Fires were burning, the morning meal was 
 being prepared. All saw the departure of Bohun with his 
 suite and the cavalry following them, with whom the com- 
 mander intended to fall upon the Voyevoda of Bratslav, who 
 harassed the rear of the camp and was injuring the Cossack 
 works with cannon. 
 
 The "blacks" viewed this marching forth with calmness 
 and even with confidence. The eyes of thousands followed the 
 young warrior and the lips oi thousands sent after him their 
 benediction: 
 
 "Grod bless you. Falcon!' 
 
 The commander, the suite, and the cavalry had reached 
 the edge of the forest; for a moment they gleamed in the 
 morning sun and then began to disappear in the forest. 
 
 All at once a terrified voice shouted at the entrance to the 
 camp: 
 
820 TVITH FIRE AWD SWORD. 
 
 "Men save yourselves!" 
 
 "The chiefs are fleeing!" shouted others. "The chiefs are 
 fleeing!'" repeated hundreds and thousands of voices. 
 
 A murmur ran through the crowds as a wind rushes 
 through the woods, and suddenlj' a terrible, unearthly cry 
 burst from two hundred thousand throats. 
 
 "Fly! fly! the Poles! The chiefs have fled!" 
 
 Masses of men rushed along like a roaring torrent. Fires 
 were trodden out, wagons upset, tents torn to pieces. All 
 were crowding, pushing, squeezing, and trampling. A ter- 
 rible panic bereft all of their senses. Heaps of corpses soon 
 obstructed the way; these had been trampled to death amid 
 roars, and shouts, and groans. Crowds rushed towards the 
 bridge and swamp and pushed one another from the bridge. 
 The drowning ones, locked in deadly embraces and howling 
 to heaven for mercy, sank in the cold, sUmy mud. On the 
 bridge a battle for place was fought. The waters of the 
 PleshoY were filled with corpses. The Xemesis of history 
 now took terrible payment for Pila^")'ets and Beresteohka. 
 
 The fearful clamor reached the ears of the youthful com- 
 mander, and he knew at once what it meant, but in vain did 
 he return at once to the camp, in vain did he confront the 
 crowds with hands raised to heaven. His vaice was lost in 
 the roar of thousands, the frightful torrent of the fleeing 
 crowds carried him away with his horse, his suite, and the 
 cavalry, to destruction. 
 
 The royal army was astonished at the commotion, which 
 at first was mistaken for a desperate attack; one scarcely 
 could believe the evidence of his own eyes. 
 
 But when the astonishment had passed a few moments 
 Jater the squadrons did not even wait for an order to attack, 
 but rushed towards the masses of the enemy. In front of 
 all swept the dragoons like a whirlwind and at the head the 
 little colonel swung his sabre above him. 
 
 It was a day of rage, of vengeance, and judmgent. . . 
 AMioever was not crushed to death, or drowned, perished by 
 the sword. The forks of the river were so filled with bloo^ 
 that one could not tell whether water or blood was flowing. 
 The panic-stricken crowds pushed one another into the water 
 and drowned. The ravages of death in the woods were all 
 the more terrible, for some of the rabble commenced to de- 
 fend themselves furiously. Battles raged in the swamp, on 
 the field, in the forest. The Yoyevoda of Bratslav cut off 
 
WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 821 
 
 the retreat of the fugitives. In vain did the king issue orders 
 that the soldiers be restrained. Compassion was dead; the 
 slaughter, the like of which the oldest veterans had not seen, 
 and at the memory of which the hair stood on their heads in 
 later times, lasted until night. 
 
 When at last darkness fell upon the earth, the victors 
 themselves were shocked by their bloody work; they sang no 
 Te Deum; and no tears of joy, but tears of regret and sorrow 
 flowed from the eyes of the worthy king. 
 
 Thus ended the first act of the bloody drama, whose author 
 was Khmyelnitski. 
 
 But Bohun did not lose his life with others on that dread- 
 ful day. Some say that seeing the defeat he saved himself 
 by flignt, others say that a well-known knight protected him, 
 but no one could get at the truth. 
 
 This much is certain that in the wars that followed, his 
 name was often mentioned among those of the most famous 
 Cossack leaders. A shot fired by some enemy, struck him a 
 few years later, but even this did not put an end to his exist- 
 ence. 
 
 After the death of Prince Yeremy Vishnyovyetski, brought 
 on by military hardships, Bohun came to rule over the 
 greater part of Lubni, which fell away from the Common- 
 wealth. It was said that afterwards he would not recognize 
 the authority of Khmyelnitski. The latter, cursed by his own 
 people, and broken sought foreign aid, but the proud Bohun 
 refused all protection and was ready to defend his Cossack 
 independence with his sword. 
 
 It was said that a smile never lighted the countenance of 
 this extraordinary man. He did not live in Lubni but in 
 a village which he rebuilt from its ashes, and was called 
 Kosloga. There also he is supposed to have died. , 
 
 Civil wars survived him and continued for a long time. 
 Later came the plague, and the Swedes; the Tartars made 
 constant incursions in the Ukraine, and bore numbers of 
 the people into slavery. The Commonwealth was devastated, 
 so also was the Ukraine. Wolves howled about the cinders 
 of former cities, and the once blooming land became one 
 vast cemetery. Hatred grew in the men's hearts and poisoned 
 kindred blood. 
 
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 AtTEMtrS' YOUXG PEOPLES' LIBRARY. 
 Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 EOBIN'SON CRUSOE: (Chiefly In words of one sylla- 
 bU'K His life and strange, surprising adventures, 
 with 70 beautifnl illustrations by Walter Paget. 
 
 ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND, with 42 
 illi'strations by John Tenniel. "The most delight- 
 ful of children's stories. Elegant and delicious 
 nonsense." — Saturday Revieto. 
 
 THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS AND WHAT 
 ALICE FOUND THERE; a companion to "Alice 
 in Wonderland," with 50 Illustrations by John 
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 BUNTAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, with 50 full page 
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 A CHILD'S STORY OF THE BIBLE, with 72 full page 
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 A CHILD'S LIFE OF CHRIST, with 49 illustrations. 
 God has implanted in the infant heart a desire 
 to hear of Jesus, and children are early attracted 
 and sweetly riveted liy the wonderful Story of the 
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 dren pass, the wonderful discoveries made and 
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 and instruction. 
 
 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS AND THE DISCOVERY 
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 THE STORY OF EXPLORATION AND DISCOVERY 
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 the experiences of adventures and discoveries In 
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 THE FABLES OF -ESOP. Compiled from the best ac- 
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 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS OP THE DNITKD 
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 We have here brought together the records of the 
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 A. CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND, by Charles Dick- 
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 success was instantaneous. 
 
 BLACK BEAUTY; THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP A 
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 A work sure to educate boys and girls lo treat 
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 130 illustrations. Contains the most favorably 
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 GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES. With 55 illustrations. 
 
 The Tales are a wonderful collection, as Inter- 
 esting, from a literary point of view, as they are 
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 FLOWER FABLES. By Loul.sa May Alcott. With nu- 
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 A series of very interesting fairy tales by the 
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 Masterpieces of English and American Literatare, Handy 
 
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 1 CRANFORD, by Mrs. Gaskell. 
 
 S A WINDOW IN THRUMS, by J. M. Barrle. 
 
 S RAB AND HIS FRIENDS, MARJORIB FLEMING, 
 ETC., by John Brown, M. D. 
 
 4 THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD, by OUver Gold- 
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 B THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW, 
 by Jerome K. Jerome. "A book for an Idle holl 
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 • TALES FROM SHAKSPEARE, by Charles and Marj 
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 T BESAME AND LILIES, by John Ruskln. 
 
 Three Lectures— I. Of the King's Treasures. 11. 
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 8 THE ETHICS OF THE DUST, by John Buskin. 
 Ten lectures to little housewives on the elements 
 of crystallzatlon. 
 
 8 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE, by Sir Johu Lubbock. 
 Complete In one volume. 
 
 10 THE SCARLET LETTER, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 
 11 THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES, by Na- 
 
 thaniel Hawthorne. 
 
 12 MOSSES FROM AN OLD MANSE, by Nathaniel 
 
 Hawthorne. 
 
 13 TWICE TOLD TALES, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 
 14 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS (LORD) BACON WITH 
 
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 16 ESSAYS, First Series, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 1< ESSAYS, Second Series, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
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 Altemus' New Illustrated Yademecum Seriei— Contiiinad. 
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 IT RBPEESBNTATIVE MEN, by Ralph Waldo Bmer- 
 son. Mental portraits each representing a class. 
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 The Writer. 
 
 IS THODGHTS OF THE EMPEROR MARCUS ATTRB- 
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 19 THE DISCOURSES OP EPICTETUS WITH THE 
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 ao OF THE IMITATION OF CHRIST, by Thomas 
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 21 ADDRESSES, by Professor Henry Drummond. The 
 
 Greatest Thing In the World; Pax Voblscum; The 
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 Christian; The Study of the Bible; A Talk on 
 Books. 
 
 22 LETTERS, SENTENCES AND MAXIMS, by Lord 
 
 Chesterfield. Masterpieces of good taste, good 
 writing, and good sense. 
 
 23 REVERIES OF A BACHELOR. A book of tb* 
 
 heart. By Ik Marvel. 
 
 24 DREAM LIFE, by Ik Marvel. A companion to "Rey- 
 
 eries of a Bachelor." 
 
 25 SARTOR RESARTUS, by Thomas Carlyle. 
 
 26 HEROES AND HERO WORSHIP, by Thomas Car- 
 
 lyle. 
 
 27 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN, by Harriet Beeeher Stowe. 
 
 28 ESSAYS OF ELIA, by Charles Lamb. 
 
 29 MT POINT OF VIEW. Representative selections 
 
 from the works of Professor Henry Drummond 
 by William Shepard. 
 
 30 THE SKETCH BOOK, by Washington Irving. Com- 
 
 plete. 
 
 81 KEPT FOR THE MASTER'S USE, by Frances Rid- 
 
 ley Havergal. 
 
 82 LUCILE, by Owen Meredith. 
 
 33 LALLA ROOKH, by Thomas Moore. 
 
 34 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, by Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 35 MARMION, by Sir Walter Scott. 
 
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 Price, 40 cents each. 
 
 36 THE PRINCESS; AND MAUD, by Alfred (Lord) 
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 87 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE, by Lord Byron. 
 
 S8 IDYLLS OF THE KING, by Alfred (Lord) Tennyson. 
 
 39 EVANGELINE, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 40 VOICES OF THE NIGHT AND OTHER POEMS, 
 
 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 41 THE BELFRY OF BRUGES AND OTHER POKMS, 
 
 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 42 THE QUEEN OF THE AIR, by John Ruskln. A 
 
 Btndy of the Greek myths of cloud and storm. 
 
 43 POEMS, Volume I, by John Greenleaf Whlttler. 
 
 44 POEMS, Volume II, by John Greenleaf Whlttler. 
 
 45 THE RAVEN; AND OTHER POEMS, by Edgar Al- 
 
 lan Poe. 
 
 46 THANATOPSIS; AND OTHER POEMS, by William 
 
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 47 THE LAST LEAF; AND OTHER POEMS, by Oliver 
 
 Wendell Holmes. 
 
 48 THE HEROES OR GREEK FAIRY TALES, by 
 
 Charles Klngsley. 
 
 49 A WONDER BOOK, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 60 UNDINE, by de La Uotte Fooque. 
 
 51 ADDRESSES, by the Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks. 
 
 52 BALZAC'S SHORTER STORIES, by Honore de 
 
 Balzac. 
 
 53 TWO TEARS BEFORE THE MAST, by Richard 
 
 H. Dana, Jr. 
 
 54 BrXJAMIN FRANKLIN. An autobiography. 
 
 55 THE LAST ESSAYS OF ELIA, by Charles Lamb. 
 
 56 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS, by Tbomaa 
 
 Hughes. 
 
 57 WEIRD TALES, by Edgar Allen Poe. 
 
 58 THE CROWN OF WILD OLIVE, by John Ruskln. 
 
 Three lectures on Work, Traffic and War. 
 
 59 NATURAL LAW IN TE SPIRITUAL WORLD, by 
 
 Professor Henry Drummond. 
 
 60 ABBE CONSTANTIN, by Ludovlc Halevy. 
 
 61 MANON LESCAUT, by Abbe Prevost. 
 
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 A-ltemus' New Illustrated Vademecum Series— Continued. 
 Price, 40 cents-each. 
 
 62 THE ROMANCE OF A POOR YODNG MAN, by 
 
 Octave Feulllet. 
 
 63 BLACK BEAUTY, by Anna Sewell. 
 
 64 CAMTLI.E, by Alexander Dumas, Jr. 
 
 65 THE LIGHT OF ASIA, by Sir Edwin Arnold. 
 
 66 THE LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME, by Thomas Bab- 
 
 Ington Macaulay. 
 
 67 THE CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH OPIUM- 
 
 EATER, by Thomas De Quincey. 
 
 68 TREASURE ISLAND, by Robert L. Stevenson. 
 
 69 CARMEN, by Prosper Merimee. 
 
 70 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY, by Laurence Sterne. 
 
 71 THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE, by Nathaniel Haw- 
 
 thorne. 
 
 72 BAB BALLADS, AND SAVOY SONGS, by W. H. 
 
 Gilbert. 
 
 73 FANCHON, THE CRICKET, by George Sand. 
 
 74 POEMS, by James Russell Lowell. 
 
 75 JOHN PLOUGHMANS TALK, by the Rev. Charles 
 
 H. Spnrgeon. 
 
 76 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S PICTURES, by the Rev. 
 
 Charles H. Spurgeon. 
 
 77 THE MANLINESS OF CHRIST, by Thomas Hughes. 
 
 78 ADDRESSES TO YOUNG MEN, by the Rev. Henry 
 
 M'ard Beecher. 
 
 79 THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE, 
 
 by Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 80 MULVANEY STORIES, by Rudyard Kipling. 
 
 81 BALLADS, by Rudyard Kipling. 
 
 82 MORNING THOUGHTS, by Frances Ridley Haver- 
 
 gal. 
 
 83 TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM, by T. S. Arthur. 
 
 84 EVENING THOUGHTS, by Frances Ridley Haver- 
 , gal. 
 
 85 IN MEMORIAM, by Alfred (Lord) Tennyson. 
 
 86 COMING TO CHRIST, by Frances Ridley Havergal. 
 
 87 HOUSE OP THE WOLF, by Stanley Weyman. 
 
HENKY AIjTEMUS' PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Altemns' Nev Illustrated Vademecmn Series — Contiiiaed. 
 Price, 40 cents eaoh. 
 
 88 THE CHANGED CROSS AND OTHER HBLIOIOUB 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 89 LADDIE AND MISS TOOSEY'S MISSION. 
 
 90 GOLD DUST. 
 
 91 DAILY POOD FOR CHRISTIANS. 
 
 92 PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS, by Rndyard 
 
 Kipling. 
 
 83 PHANTOM RICKSHAW, by Rndyard KipUnc 
 
 94 JESSICAS FIRST PRAYER AND JESSICA'S 
 
 MOTHER, by Hesba Stretton. 
 
 95 THE THRONE OF GRACE. 
 
 96 STEPS INTO THE BLESSED LIFE, by ReT. F. B. 
 
 Meyer. 
 
 97 ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE, by Miss Mnlock. 
 
 98 THE IMPREGNABLE ROCK OF HOLY SCRIP- 
 
 TURE, by Hon. W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 99 PATHWAY OF PROMISE. 
 
 100 PATHWAY OF SAFETY, by Rt. ReT. AahtoB Om- 
 
 enden. 
 
 101 KIDNAPPED, by Robert Louis Stevenson. 
 
 102 THE PRINCE OF THE HOUSE OP DAVID, by 
 
 ReT. J. H. Inerabam. 
 
 103 THE CHRISTIAN LIFE, by Rt. ReT. Ashton Ox- 
 
 enden. 
 
 104 THE MESSAGE OF PEACE, by ReT R. W. Chnrch. 
 
 105 PHEP OF DAY. Or a Series of the Earliest Rells- 
 
 ious Instruction the Infant Mind is Capable of 
 Receiving. 
 
 106 LINE UPON LINE. Or a Second Series of the Ear- 
 
 liest Religious Instruction the Infant Mind la 
 Capable of ReeelTlng, 
 
 167 PRECEPT UPON PRECEPT. By the author of 
 "The Peep of Day," "Line Upon Line," "Pre- 
 cept Upon Precept," etc. 
 
 108 TAN6LEWOOD TALES, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 
 109 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA, by Henry Wadsworth 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
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