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

I am ashamed of such affection; I should prefer death a hundred times.”

Helena’s cheeks were flushed; tears were flowing over them, forced out by anger, contempt, and pain.

“I will not deny,” said Zagloba, “that a great misfortune has come upon your house; but permit me to say that your relatives are partly to blame. They should not have promised your hand to the Cossack, and then betrayed him. When this was discovered he became so enraged that no persuasion of mine could avail. I am sorry for your two dead cousins, and especially for the younger; for he was still a mere youth, but it was evident at a glance that he would have ripened into a mighty warrior.”

Helena began to cry.

“Tears are not proper to those garments which you wear; wipe them away therefore, and say to yourself that this was the will of God. God will punish the outlaw too, who is indeed already punished; for he has shed blood in vain, and has lost you, the one chief object of his desires.”

Here Zagloba stopped; after a while he spoke again:⁠—

“Oh, dear Lord, what a dressing he would give me if I should fall into his hands! He would make a lizard out of my skin. You do not know that I have already received the crown of martyrdom from the Turks; but I have had enough, I do not wish another; therefore I do not go to Lubni, but to Cherkasi. It would be pleasant to take refuge with the prince, but if they should catch us while going there! You heard, as I was untying the horse from the post, how one of Bogun’s serving-men woke up. But if he had raised the alarm then? They would have been ready for the chase at once, and would have caught us in an hour; for they have the fresh horses of Rozlogi, from which I had no time to select. Oh, I tell you he is a wild beast, that Bogun! I have such a horror of him that I would rather take a look at the devil than at him.”

“God save us from his hands!”

“He has ruined himself. He abandoned Chigirin, in spite of the orders of the hetman; he has come into collision with Vishnyevetski. Nothing now remains for him but to flee to Hmelnitski. But he will lose his daring if Hmelnitski is beaten, and that may happen. Jendzian met troops beyond Kremenchug, sailing down the river under Barabash and Krechovski, against Hmelnitski; and, besides, young Stephan Pototski is moving by land with his hussars; but Jendzian waited ten days in Kremenchug to repair his boat. Therefore the battle must have taken place before he reached Chigirin. We were expecting news every moment.”

“Then Jendzian brought letters from Kudák, did he?” asked Helena.

“Yes, there were letters from Skshetuski to the princess and to you; but Bogun seized them, and from them learned everything. Then he struck down Jendzian at once, and set out to take vengeance on the Kurtsevichi.”

“Oh, unfortunate youth! He has shed his blood on my account.”

“Do not grieve; he will recover.”

“When did this happen?”

“Yesterday morning. For Bogun to fell a man is no more than for another to toss off a glass of wine. And after the reading of the letters, he roared so that all Chigirin trembled.”

Conversation was interrupted for a moment. Daylight had come. The rosy dawn, streaked with opals, bright gold, and purple, was glowing in the east. The breeze was fresh; the horses, now rested, moved gladly.

“Let us go on, in God’s name, and quickly! Our horses have drawn breath, and we have no time to lose,” said Zagloba.

They went again at a gallop, and rushed on for two or three miles without rest. All at once a dark point appeared ahead of them, which approached with amazing rapidity.

“What can that be?” asked Zagloba. “Let us draw up a little. That’s a man on horseback.”

In fact, some horseman was approaching them at full speed. Bent forward in the saddle, with face hidden in the mane of the horse, he continued to urge with a nagaika the stallion, which seemed not to touch the ground.

“What kind of devil can he be, and why does he flee so? But he just flies!” said Zagloba, taking out a pistol from the holsters, to be ready in every event.

Meanwhile the courier had come within thirty yards.

“Stop!” thundered Zagloba, aiming his pistol; “who are you?”

The horseman reined in his steed, and sat erect in the saddle; but the moment he looked he cried, “Pan Zagloba!”

“Pleshnyevski, attendant of the starosta of Chigirin! But what are you doing here? Where are you fleeing to?”

“Oh, turn back with me! Misfortune! The anger of God, the judgment of God!”

“What has happened? Speak!”

“Chigirin is taken by the Zaporojians. The peasants are slaughtering the nobles.”

“In the name of the Father and Son! What do you say? Has Hmelnitski come?”

“Pototski is killed, Charnetski in captivity. The Tartars are marching with the Cossacks. Tugai Bey⁠—”

“But Barabash and Krechovski?”

“Barabash is killed, Krechovski has gone over to Hmelnitski. Krívonos moved on the hetmans last night, Hmelnitski before daybreak this morning. He has tremendous forces. The country is on fire, peasants rising everywhere; blood is flowing. Save yourself!”

Zagloba’s eyes were starting out, his mouth open, and he was so astonished that he could not speak.

“Save yourself!” repeated Pleshnyevski.

“Jesus and Mary!” groaned Zagloba.

“Jesus and Mary!” repeated Helena, and burst into tears.

“Escape! There is no time to be wasted.”

“Where! To what place?”

“To Lubni.”

“But are you going there?”

“Yes; to the prince, the voevoda.”

“Devil take it all!” cried Zagloba. “But where are the hetmans?”

“At Korsún. But Krívonos is fighting with them already.”

“Krívonos or Prostonos,10 may the plague consume him! I have no reason to go where he is.”

“You are running to your own destruction, as into a lion’s mouth.”

“And who sent you to Lubni? Your lord?”

“Oh! he escaped with his life; and a friend whom I have among the Zaporojians saved my head,