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

care of your master; don’t you tell him anything, for the soul will go out of him.’ ”

Pan Yan had parted long since from every hope to such a degree that even these words of Jendzian did not rouse in him the least spark. He lay for a time motionless, and then inquired: “Where did you come from to Tsetsishovski and the army?”

“The wife of the castellan, Pani Vitovska, sent me from Zamost to inform her husband that she would join him at Toporoff. She is a brave lady, my master, and wishes to be with the army, so as not to be away from her husband. I came to Toporoff the day before you. She will be here soon⁠—ought to be here now. But what if he has gone away with the king?”

“I don’t understand how you could be in Zamost when you went with Volodyovski and Zagloba beyond Yampol. Why didn’t you come to Zbaraj with them?”

“You see, my master, the horde pressed us sorely. There was no help. So they two alone resisted a whole chambul, and I fled and never drew bridle till I reached Zamost.”

“It was happy they were not killed; but I thought you were a better fellow. Was it manly of you to leave them in such straits?”

“But, my master, if there had been only three of us, I should not have left them, you may be sure; but there were four of us; therefore they threw themselves against the horde, and ordered me to save⁠—if I were sure that joy wouldn’t kill you⁠—for beyond Yampol we found⁠—but since the priest⁠—”

Skshetuski began to look at the youth, and to open and shut his eyes like a man waking from sleep. Suddenly it seemed as though something had broken within him, for he grew pale, sat up in the bed, and cried with a thundering voice: “Who was with you?”

“My master, my master!” called the youth, struck with the change that had come on the face of the knight.

“Who was with you?” cried Skshetuski; and seizing Jendzian by the shoulder, he shook him, began himself to tremble as in a fever, and press the youth in his iron hands.

“I’ll tell anyhow,” shouted Jendzian, “let the priest do what he likes. The princess was with us, and she is now with Pani Vitovska.”

Pan Yan grew rigid; he closed his eyes, and his head fell heavily on the pillow.

“Help!” cried Jendzian. “Surely, my master, you have breathed your last. Help! What have I done? Better I had been silent. Oh, for God’s sake! my master, dearest master, but speak! For God’s sake! the priest was right. My master, my master!”

“Oh, this is nothing!” said Skshetuski at length. “Where is she?”

“Praise be to God that you have revived! Better for me to say nothing. She is with Pani Vitovska; you will soon see them here. Praise be to God, my master! only don’t die; you will see them soon. The priest gave her to Pani Vitovska for safe keeping, because there are libertines in the army. Bogun respected her, but misfortune is easily found. I had a world of trouble; but I told the soldiers, ‘She is a relative of Prince Yeremi,’ and they respected her. I had to give away no small money on the road.”

Skshetuski lay motionless again; but his eyes were open, turned to the ceiling, and his face very serious. It was evident he was praying. When he had finished, he sprang up, sat on the bed, and said: “Give me my clothes, and have the horse saddled.”

“If you knew, my master, what a plenty of everything there is; for the king before going gave much, and others gave. And there are three splendid horses in the stable⁠—if I only had one like them⁠—but you would better lie and rest a little, for you have no strength yet.”

“There is nothing the matter with me. I can sit on a horse. In the name of the living God, make haste!”

“I know that your body is of iron; let it be as you say! But defend me from the priest! Here are your clothes; better cannot be had from the Armenian merchants. You can choose, and I’ll tell them to bring wine, for I told the priest’s servant to heat some.”

Jendzian occupied himself with the food, and Skshetuski began to put on hastily the clothes presented by the king and others. But from time to time he seized the youth by the shoulders and pressed him to his bosom. Jendzian told him everything from the beginning⁠—how Bogun, stricken down by Volodyovski, but already partly recovered, had met him in Vlodava, and how he had learned of the princess from him, and received the baton; how he had gone subsequently with Volodyovski and Zagloba to Valadinka, and having killed the witch and Cheremís, had taken away the princess; and finally, what peril they were in while fleeing before the forces of Burlai.

“Pan Zagloba killed Burlai,” interrupted Skshetuski, feverishly.

“He is a valiant man,” answered Jendzian. “I have never seen his equal; for one is brave, another eloquent, a third cunning, but all these are sitting together in Zagloba. But the worst of all that happened was in those woods behind Ploskiri, when the horde pursued us. Pan Volodyovski with Zagloba remained behind to attract them and stop the pursuit, I rushed off sidewise toward Konstantinoff, leaving Zbaraj; for I thought this way⁠—that after they had killed the little man and Zagloba they would pursue us to Zbaraj. Indeed, I don’t know how the Lord in his mercy rescued the little man and Pan Zagloba. I thought they were cut to pieces. Meanwhile I with the princess slipped through between Hmelnitski, who was marching from Konstantinoff, and Zbaraj, to which the Tartars were marching.”

“They did not go there, for Pan Kushel stopped them. But hurry!”

“Yes, if I had known that! But I did not know it; therefore I pressed through with the princess between the Tartars and