With Fire and Sword Henryk Sienkiewicz (different e readers .TXT) 📖

some fourth person. “Well, I will bring to your mind what they told me in Chigirin when I came there from Bazaluk with Tugai Bey. I inquired everywhere for my enemy, Chaplinski, whom I did not find; but they told me what you did to him after our first meeting⁠—that you grabbed him by the hair and trousers, beat the door open with him, drew blood from him as from a dog.”

“I did in fact do that,” said Skshetuski.

“You did splendidly, you acted well. But I’ll reach him yet, or treaties and commissions are in vain⁠—I’ll reach him yet, and play with him in my own fashion; but you gave him pepper.”

The hetman now turned to Kisel, and began to tell how it was: “He caught him by the hair and trousers, lifted him like a fox, opened the door with him, and hurled him into the street.” Here he laughed till the echo resounded in the side-room and reached the drawing-room. “Voevoda, give orders to bring mead, for I must drink to the health of this knight, my friend.”

Kisel opened the door, and called to the attendant, who immediately brought three goblets of the mead of Gushchi.

Hmelnitski touched goblets with the voevoda and Pan Yan, and drank so that his head was warmed, his face smiled, great pleasure entered his heart, and turning to the colonel he said: “Ask of me what you like.”

A flush came on the pale face of Skshetuski; a moment of silence followed.

“Don’t fear!” said Hmelnitski; “a word is not smoke. Ask for what you like, provided you ask for nothing belonging to Kisel.”

The hetman even drunk was always himself.

“If I may use the affection which you have for me, then I ask justice from you. One of your colonels has done me an injury.”

“Off with his head!” said Hmelnitski, with an outburst.

“It is not a question of that; only order him to fight a duel with me.”

“Off with his head!” cried the hetman. “Who is he?”

“Bogun.”

Hmelnitski began to blink; then he struck his forehead with his palm. “Bogun? Bogun is killed. The king wrote me that he was slain in a duel.”

Pan Yan was astonished. Zagloba had told the truth.

“What did Bogun do to you?” asked Hmelnitski.

A still deeper flush came on the colonel’s face. He feared to mention the princess before the half-drunk hetman, lest he might hear some unpardonable word.

Kisel rescued him. “It is an important affair,” said he, “of which Bjozovski the castellan has told me. Bogun carried off the betrothed of this cavalier and secreted her, it is unknown where.”

“But have you looked for her?” asked Hmelnitski.

“I have looked for her on the Dniester, for he secreted her there, but did not find her. I heard, however, that he intended to take her to Kiev, where he wished to come himself to marry her. Give me, O Hetman, the right to go to Kiev and search for her there. I ask for nothing more.”

“You are my friend; you battered Chaplinski. I’ll give you not only the right to go and seek her wherever you like, but I will issue an order that whoever has her in keeping shall deliver her to you; and I’ll give you a baton as a pass, and a letter to the metropolitan to look for her among the nuns. My word is not smoke!”

He opened the door and called to Vygovski to come and write an order and a letter. Chernota was obliged, though it was after three o’clock, to go for the seal. Daidyalo brought the baton, and Donyéts received the order to conduct Skshetuski with two hundred horse to Kiev, and farther to the first Polish outposts.

Next day Skshetuski left Pereyasláv.

LII

If Zagloba was bored at Zbaraj, no less bored was Volodyovski, who was longing especially for war and its adventures. They went out, it is true, from time to time with the squadron in pursuit of plundering parties who were burning and slaying on the Zbruch; but that was a small war, principally work for scouts, difficult because of the cold winter and frosts, yielding much toil and little glory. For these reasons Pan Michael urged Zagloba every day to go to the assistance of Skshetuski, from whom they had had no tidings for a long time.

“He must have fallen into some fatal trap and may have lost his life,” said Volodyovski. “We must surely go, even if we have to perish with him.”

Zagloba did not offer much opposition, for he thought they had stayed too long in Zbaraj, and wondered why mushrooms were not growing on them already. But he delayed, hoping that news might come from Skshetuski any moment.

“He is brave and prudent,” answered he to the importunities of Volodyovski. “We will wait a couple of days yet; perhaps a letter will come and render our whole expedition useless.”

Volodyovski recognized the justice of the argument and armed himself with patience, though time dragged on more and more slowly. At the end of December frost had stopped even robbery, and there was peace in the neighborhood. The only entertainment was in public news, which came thick and fast to the gray walls of Zbaraj.

They spoke about the coronation and the Diet, and about the question whether Prince Yeremi would receive the baton which belonged to him before all other warriors. They were terribly excited against those who affirmed that in view of the turn in favor of a treaty with Hmelnitski, Kisel alone could gain advancement. Volodyovski had several duels on this point, and Zagloba several drinking-bouts; and there was danger of the latter’s becoming a confirmed drunkard, for not only did he keep company with officers and nobles, but he was not ashamed to go even among townspeople to christenings and weddings, praising especially their mead, for which Zbaraj was famous.

Volodyovski reproved him for this, saying that familiarity with people of low degree was not befitting a noble, since regard