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

under the influence of that glance grew quiet; then turning to the koshevoi, he said: “And I know him too.”

“Whence do you come?” asked the koshevoi of Pan Yan.

“I was coming with an embassy to you, kosheroi ataman, when robbers fell upon me at Hortitsa, and, in spite of customs observed among the wildest people, killed my men, and, regarding neither my office of envoy nor my birth, wounded me, insulted me, and brought me here as a prisoner; for which my lord, Prince Yeremi Vishnyevetski, will know how to demand of you account, koshevoi ataman.”

“And why did you dissemble? Why did you crush the head of a brave man? Why did you kill four times as many people as your own number? And you came with a letter to me to observe our preparations and report them to the Poles! We know also that you had letters to traitors in the Zaporojian army, so as to plan with them the destruction of that whole army; therefore you will be received, not as an envoy, but as a traitor, and punished with justice.”

“You deceive yourself, koshevoi, and you, self-styled hetman,” said the lieutenant, turning to Hmelnitski. “If I brought letters, every envoy does the same when he goes to strange places; for he takes letters from acquaintances to acquaintances, so that through them he may have society. And I came here with a letter from the prince, not to contrive your destruction, but to restrain you from deeds which are an unendurable outrage to the Commonwealth, and which in the end will bring ruin on you and the whole Zaporojian army. For on whom do you raise your godless hands? Against whom do you, who call yourselves defenders of Christianity, form an alliance with Pagans? Against the king, against the nobility, and the whole Commonwealth. You therefore, not I, are traitors; and I tell you that unless you efface your crimes with obedience and humility, then woe to you! Are the times of Pavlyuk and Nalivaika so remote? Has their punishment left your memory? Remember, then, that the patience of the Commonwealth is exhausted, and the sword is hanging over your heads.”

“Oh, you son of Satan!” shouted the koshevoi. “You bark to squeeze out and escape death; but your threatening and your Polish Latin won’t help you.”

Other atamans began to gnash their teeth and shake their sabres; but Skshetuski raised his head still higher, and said⁠—

“Do not think, atamans, that I fear death, or that I defend my life, or that I am exhibiting my innocence. Being a noble, I can be tried only by equals. Here I am standing, not before judges, but before bandits⁠—not before nobility, but before serfdom⁠—not before knighthood, but before barbarism; and I know well I shall not escape my death, with which you will fill the measure of your iniquity. Before me are death and torment; but behind me the power and vengeance of the Commonwealth, in presence of which you are all trembling.”

Indeed the lofty stature, the grandeur of his speech, and the name of the Commonwealth made a deep impression. The atamans looked at one another in silence. After a while it seemed to them that not a prisoner, but the terrible messenger of a mighty people, was standing before them.

Tugai Bey murmured: “That is an angry Pole!”

“An angry Pole!” said Hmelnitski.

A violent knocking at the door stopped further conversation. On the square the remains of Tatarchuk and Barabash had been disposed of; and the Brotherhood sent a new deputation. A number of Cossacks, bloody, panting, covered with sweat, drunk, entered the room. They stood near the door, and stretching forth their hands still steaming with blood, began to speak.

“The Brotherhood bow to the elders,”⁠—here they bowed to their girdles⁠—“and ask that the Pole be given them to play with, as they played with Barabash and Tatarchuk.”

“Let them have the Pole!” cried Chernota.

“No,” cried others, “let them wait! He is an envoy!”

“To destruction with him!” answered a number of voices.

Then all were silent, waiting for the answer of the koshevoi and Hmelnitski.

“The Brotherhood ask; and if he is not given, they will take him themselves,” said the deputies.

Skshetuski seemed lost beyond redemption, when Hmelnitski inclined to the ear of Tugai Bey and whispered⁠—

“He is your captive. The Tartars took him, he is yours. Will you let him be taken from you? He is a rich nobleman, and besides Prince Yeremi will ransom him with gold.”

“Give up the Pole!” cried the Cossacks, with increasing violence.

Tugai Bey straightened himself in his seat and stood up. His countenance changed in a moment; his eyes dilated like the eyes of a wildcat, they began to flash fire. Suddenly he sprang like a tiger in front of the Cossacks who were demanding the prisoner.

“Be off, clowns, infidel dogs, slaves, pig-eaters!” bellowed he, seizing by the beard two of the Zaporojians and pulling them with rage. “Be off, drunkards, brutes, foul reptiles! You have come to take my captive, but this is the way I’ll treat you.” So saying, he pulled some by the beard; at last he threw one down and began to stamp on him with his feet. “On your faces, slaves! I will send you into captivity, I will trample the whole Saitch under foot as I trample you! I will send it up in smoke, cover it with your carcasses.”

The deputies drew back in fear; their terrible friend had shown what he could do.

And, wonderful thing in Bazaluk, there were only six thousand of the horde! It is true that behind them stood the Khan and all the power of the Crimea; but in the Saitch itself there were several thousand Cossacks besides those whom Hmelnitski had already sent to Tomakovka⁠—but still not one voice was raised in protest against Tugai Bey. It might be that the method with which the terrible murza had defended his captive was the only