Генрик Сенкевич
Pan Michael
"Good!"
That voice gave her uncommon pleasure; she piped again more thinly, and began to extend disaster, and now with perfect presence of mind. Behold, again some terrible head, with flat nose and projecting cheek-bones, is gnashing its teeth before her. Basia gives a blow at that one. Again a hand raises a sling-shot. Basia strikes at that. She sees some face in a sheepskin; she thrusts at that. Then she strikes to the right, to the left, straight ahead; and whenever she cuts, a man flies to the ground, tearing the bridle from his horse. Basia wonders that it is so easy; but it is easy because on one side rides, stirrup to her stirrup, the little knight, and on the other Pan Motovidlo. The first looks carefully after her, and quenches a man as he would a candle; then with his keen blade he cuts off an arm together with its weapon; at times he thrusts his sword between Basia and the enemy, and the hostile sabre flies upward as suddenly as would a winged bird.
Pan Motovidlo, a phlegmatic soldier, guarded the other side of the mettlesome lady; and as an industrious gardener, going among trees, trims or breaks off dry branches, so he time after time brings down men to the bloody earth, fighting as coolly and calmly as if his mind were in another place. Both knew when to let Basia go forward alone, and when to anticipate or intercept her. There was watching over her from a distance still a third man, – the incomparable archer, who, standing purposely at a distance, put every little while the butt of an arrow on the string, and sent an unerring messenger of death to the densest throng.
But the pressure became so savage that Pan Michael commanded Basia to withdraw from the whirl with some men, especially as the half-wild horses of the horde began to bite and kick. Basia obeyed quickly; for although eagerness was bearing her away, and her valiant heart urged her to continue the struggle, her woman's nature was gaining the upper hand of her ardor; and in presence of that slaughter and blood, in the midst of howls, groans, and the agonies of the dying, in an atmosphere filled with the odor of flesh and sweat, she began to shudder. Withdrawing her horse slowly, she soon found herself behind the circle of combatants; hence Pan Michael and Pan Motovidlo, relieved from guarding her, were able to give perfect freedom at last to their soldierly wishes.
Pan Mushalski, standing hitherto at a distance, approached Basia. "Your ladyship, my benefactress, fought really like a cavalier," said he. "A man not knowing that you were there might have thought that the Archangel Michael had come down to help our Cossacks, and was smiting the dog brothers. What an honor for them to perish under such a hand, which on this occasion let it not be forbidden me to kiss." So saying, Pan Mushalski seized Basia's hand and pressed it to his mustache.
"Did you see? Did I do well, really?" inquired Basia, catching the air in her distended nostrils and her mouth.
"A cat could not do better against rats. The heart rose in me at sight of you, as I love the Lord God. But you did well to withdraw from the fight, for toward the end there is more chance for an accident."
"My husband commanded me; and when leaving home, I promised to obey him at once."
"May my bow remain? No! it is of no use now; besides, I will rush forward with the sabre. I see three men riding up; of course the colonel has sent them to guard your worthy person. Otherwise I would send; but I will go to the foot of the cliff, for the end will come soon, and I must hurry."
Three dragoons really came to guard Basia; seeing this, Pan Mushalski spurred his horse and galloped away. For a while Basia hesitated whether to remain in that place or ride around the steep cliff, and go to the eminence from which they had looked on the plain before the battle. But feeling great weariness, she resolved to remain.
The feminine nature rose in her more and more powerfully. About two hundred yards distant they were cutting down the remnant of the ravagers without mercy, and a black mass of strugglers was whirling with growing violence on the bloody place of conflict. Despairing cries rent the air; and Basia, so full of eagerness shortly before, had grown weak now in some way. Great fear seized her, so that she came near fainting, and only shame in presence of the dragoons kept her in the saddle; she turned her face from them to hide her pallor. The fresh air brought back her strength slowly and her courage, but not to that degree that she had the wish to spring in anew among the combatants. She would have done so to implore mercy for the rest of the horde. But knowing that that would be useless, she waited anxiously for the end of the struggle. And there they were cutting and cutting. The sound of the hacking and the cries did not cease for a moment. Half an hour perhaps had passed; the squadrons were closing in with greater force. All at once a party of ravagers, numbering about twenty, tore themselves free of the murderous circle, and rushed like a whirlwind toward the eminence.
Escaping along the cliff, they might in fact reach a place where the eminence was lost by degrees in the plain, and find on the high steppe their salvation; but in their way stood Basia with the dragoons. The sight of danger gave strength to Basia's heart at this moment, and self-control to her mind. She understood that to stay where she was was destruction; for the robbers with impetus alone could overturn and trample her and her guards, not to mention that they would bear them apart on sabres. The old sergeant of dragoons was clearly of this view, for he seized the bridle of Basia's pony, turned the beast, and cried with voice almost despairing, —
"On, on! serene lady!"
Basia shot away like the wind; but the three faithful soldiers stood like a wall on the spot, to hold back the enemy even one moment, and give the beloved lady time to put herself at a distance. Meanwhile soldiers galloped after that band in immediate pursuit; but the circle hitherto enclosing the ravagers hermetically was thereby broken; they began to escape in twos, in threes, and then more numerously. The enormous majority were lying on the field, but some tens of them, together with Azba Bey, were able to flee. All these rushed on in a body as fast as their horses could gallop toward the eminence.
Three dragoons could not detain all the fugitives, – in fact, after a short struggle they fell from their saddles; but the cloud, running on behind Basia, turned to the slope of the eminence and reached the high steppe. The Polish squadrons in the front ranks and the nearer Lithuanian Tartars rushed with all speed some tens of steps behind them. On the high steppe, which was cut across thickly by treacherous clefts and ravines, was formed a gigantic serpent of those on horseback, the head of which was Basia, the neck the ravagers, and the continuation of the body Mellehovich with the Lithuanian Tartars and dragoons, at the head of which rushed Volodyovski, with his spurs in the side of his horse, and terror in his soul.
At the moment when the handful of robbers had torn themselves free of the ring, Volodyovski was engaged on the opposite side of it; therefore Mellehovich preceded him in the pursuit. The hair was standing on his head at the thought that Basia might be seized by the fugitives; that she might lose presence of mind, and rush straight toward the Dniester; that any one of the robbers might reach her with a sabre, a dagger, or a sling-shot, – and the heart was sinking in him from fear for her life. Lying almost on the neck of the horse, he was pale, with set teeth, a whirlwind of ghastly thoughts in his head; he pricked his steed with armed heels, struck him with the side of his sword, and flew like a bustard before he rises to soar.
"God grant Mellehovich to come up! He is on a good horse. God grant him!" repeated he, in despair.
But his fears were ill founded, and the danger was not so great as it seemed to the loving knight. The question of their own skins was too near to the robbers; they felt the Lithuanian Tartars too close to their shoulders to pursue a single rider, even were that rider the most beautiful houri in the Mohammedan paradise, escaping in a robe set with jewels. Basia needed only to turn toward Hreptyoff to escape from pursuit; for surely the fugitives would not return to the jaws of the lion for her, while they had before them a river, with its reeds in which they could hide. The Lithuanian Tartars had better horses, and Basia was sitting on a pony incomparably swifter than the ordinary shaggy beasts of the horde, which were enduring in flight, but not so swift as horses of high blood. Besides, she not only did not lose presence of mind, but her daring nature asserted itself with all force, and knightly blood played again in her veins. The pony stretched out like a deer; the wind whistled in Basia's ears, and instead of fear, a certain feeling of delight seized her.
"They might hunt a whole year, and not catch me," thought she. "I'll rush on yet, and then turn, and either let them pass, or if they have not stopped pursuing, I will put them under the sabre."
It came to her mind that if the ravagers behind her were scattered greatly over the steppe, she might, on turning, meet one of them and have a hand-to-hand combat.
"Well, what is that?" said she to her valiant soul. "Michael has taught me so that I may venture boldly; if I do not, they will think that I am fleeing through fear, and will not take me on another expedition; and besides, Pan Zagloba will make sport of me."
Saying this to herself, she looked around at the robbers, but they were fleeing in a crowd. There was no possibility of single combat; but Basia wished to give proof before the eyes of the whole army that she was not fleeing at random and in frenzy. Remembering that she had in the holsters two excellent pistols carefully loaded by Michael himself before they set out, she began to rein in her pony, or rather to turn him toward Hreptyoff, while slacking his speed. But, oh, wonder! at sight of this the whole party of ravagers changed the direction of their flight somewhat, going more to the left, toward the edge of the eminence. Basia, letting them come within a few tens of steps, fired twice at the nearest horses; then, turning, urged on at full gallop toward Hreptyoff.
But the pony had run barely some yards with the speed of a sparrow, when suddenly there darkened in front a cleft in the steppe. Basia pressed the pony with her spurs without hesitation, and the noble beast did not refuse, but sprang forward; only his fore feet caught somewhat the bank opposite. For a moment he strove violently to find support on the steep wall with his hind feet; but the earth, not sufficiently frozen yet, fell away, and the horse went down through the opening, with Basia. Fortunately the horse did not fall on her; she succeeded in freeing her feet from the stirrups, and, leaning to one side with all force, struck on a thick layer of moss, which covered the bottom of the chasm as if with a lining; but the shock was so violent that she fainted.
Pan Michael did not see the fall, for the horizon was concealed by the Lithuanian Tartars; but Mellehovich shouted with a terrible voice at his men to pursue the ravagers without stopping, and running himself to the cleft, disappeared in it. In a twinkle he was down from the saddle, and seized Basia in his arms. His falcon eyes saw her all in one moment, looking to see if there was blood anywhere; then they fell on the moss, and he understood that this had saved her and the pony from death. A stifled cry of joy was rent from the mouth of the young Tartar. But Basia was hanging in his arms; he pressed her with all his strength to his breast; then with pale lips he kissed her eyes time after time, as if wishing to drink them out of her head. The whole world whirled with him in a mad vortex; the passion concealed hitherto in the bottom of his breast, as a dragon lies concealed in a cave, carried him away like a storm.
But at that moment the tramp of many horses was heard in an echo from the lofty steppe, and approached more and more swiftly. Numerous voices were crying, "Here! in this cleft! Here!" Mellehovich placed Basia on the moss, and called to those riding up, —
"This way, this way!"
A moment later, Pan Michael was at the bottom of the cleft; after him Pan Zagloba, Mushalski, and a number of other officers.
"Nothing is the matter," cried the Tartar. "The moss saved her."
Pan Michael grasped his insensible wife by the hands; others ran for water, which was not near. Zagloba, seizing the temples of the unconscious woman, began to cry, —
"Basia, Basia, dearest! Basia!"
"Nothing is the matter with her," said Mellehovich, pale as a corpse.
Meanwhile Zagloba clapped his side, took a flask, poured gorailka on his palm, and began to rub her temples. Then he put the flask to her lips; this acted evidently, for before the men returned with water, she had opened her eyes and began to catch for air, coughing meanwhile, for the gorailka had burned the roof of her mouth and her throat. In a few moments she had recovered completely.
Pan Michael, not regarding the presence of officers and soldiers, pressed her to his bosom, and covered her hands with kisses, saying, "Oh, my love, the soul came near leaving me! Has nothing hurt? Does nothing pain you?"
"Nothing is the matter," said Basia. "Aha! I remember now that it grew dark in my eyes, for my horse slipped. But is the battle over?"
"It is. Azba Bey is killed. We will go home at once, for I am afraid that fatigue may overcome you."
"I feel no fatigue whatever." Then, looking quickly at those present, she distended her nostrils, and said, "But do not think, gentlemen, that I fled through fear. Oho! I did not even dream of it. As I love Michael, I galloped ahead of them only for sport, and then I fired my pistols."
"A horse was struck by those shots, and we took one robber alive," put in Mellehovich.
"And what?" asked Basia. "Such an accident may happen any one in galloping, is it not true? No experience will save one from that, for a horse will slip sometimes. Ha! it is well that you watched me, gentlemen, for I might have lain here a long time."
"Pan Mellehovich saw you first, and first saved you; for we were galloping behind him," said Volodyovski.
Basia, hearing this, turned to Mellehovich and reached her hand to him. "I thank you for good offices."
He made no answer, only pressed the hand to his mouth, and then embraced with submission her feet, like a peasant.
Meanwhile more of the squadron assembled at the edge of the cleft; Pan Michael simply gave orders to Mellehovich to form a circle around the few robbers who had hidden from pursuit, and then started for Hreptyoff. On the road Basia saw the field of battle once more from the height. The bodies of men and horses lay in places in piles, in places singly. Through the blue sky flocks of ravens were approaching more and more numerously, with great cawing, and coming down at a distance, waited till the soldiers, still going about on the plain, should depart.
"Here are the soldiers' gravediggers!" said Zagloba, pointing at the birds with his sabre; "let us only go away, and wolves will come too, with their orchestra, and will ring with their teeth over these dead men. This is a notable victory, though gained over such a vile enemy; for that Azba has ravaged here and there for a number of years. Commandants have hunted him like a wolf, always in vain, till at last he met Michael, and the black hour came on him."
"Is Azba Bey killed?"
"Mellehovich overtook him first; and I tell you if he did not cut him over the ear! The sabre went to his teeth."
"Mellehovich is a good soldier," said Basia. Here she turned to Zagloba, "And have you done much?"
"I did not chirp like a cricket, nor jump like a flea, for I leave such amusement to insects. But if I did not, men did not look for me among moss, like mushrooms; no one pulled my nose, and no one touched my face."
"I do not like you!" said Basia, pouting, and reaching involuntarily to her nose, which was red.
And he looked at her, smiled, and muttered, without ceasing to joke, "You fought valiantly, you fled valiantly, you went valiantly heels over head; and now, from pain in your bones, you will put away kasha so valiantly that we shall be forced to take care of you, lest the sparrows eat you up with your valor, for they are very fond of kasha."
"You are talking in that way so that Michael may not take me on another expedition. I know you perfectly!"
"But, but I will ask him to take you nutting always, for you are skilful, and do not break branches under you. My God, that is gratitude to me! And who persuaded Michael to let you go? I. I reproach myself now severely, especially since you pay me so for my devotion. Wait! you will cut stalks now on the square at Hreptyoff with a wooden sword! Here is an expedition for you! Another woman would hug the old man; but this scolding Satan frightens me first, and threatens me afterward."
Basia, without hesitating long, embraced Zagloba. He was greatly delighted, and said, "Well, well! I must confess that you helped somewhat to the victory of to-day; for the soldiers, since each wished to exhibit himself, fought with terrible fury."
"As true as I live," cried Pan Mushalski, "a man is not sorry to die when such eyes are upon him."
"Vivat our lady!" cried Pan Nyenashinyets.
"Vivat!" cried a hundred voices.
"God give her health!"
Here Zagloba inclined toward her and muttered, "After faintness!"
And they rode forward joyously, shouting, certain of a feast in the evening. The weather became wonderful. The trumpeters played in the squadrons, the drummers beat their drums, and all entered Hreptyoff with an uproar.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Beyond every expectation, the Volodyovskis found guests at the fortalice. Pan Bogush had come; he had determined to fix his residence at Hreptyoff for some months, so as to treat through Mellehovich with the Tartar captains Aleksandrovich, Moravski, Tvorovski, Krychinski, and others, either of the Lithuanian or Ukraine Tartars, who had gone to the service of the Sultan. Pan Bogush was accompanied also by old Pan Novoveski and his daughter Eva, and by Pani Boski, a sedate person, with her daughter, Panna Zosia, who was young yet, and very beautiful. The sight of ladies in the Wilderness and in wild Hreptyoff delighted, but still more astonished, the soldiers. The guests, too, were surprised at sight of the commandant and his wife; for the first, judging from his extended and terrible fame, they imagined to be some kind of giant, who by his very look would terrify people, his wife as a giantess with brows ever frowning and a rude voice. Meanwhile they saw before them a little soldier, with a kindly and friendly face, and also a tiny woman, rosy as a doll, who, in her broad trousers and with her sabre, seemed more like a beautiful boy than a grown person. None the less did the hosts receive their visitors with open arms. Basia kissed heartily, before presentation, the three women; when they told who they were, and whence they had come, she said, —
"I should rejoice to bend the heavens for you, ladies, and for you, gentlemen. I am awfully glad to see you! It is well that no misfortune has met you on the road, for in our desert, you see, such a thing is not difficult; but this very day we have cut the ravagers to pieces."
Seeing then that Pani Boski was looking at her with increasing astonishment, she struck her sabre, and added with great boastfulness, "Ah, but I was in the fight! Of course I was. That's the way with us! For God's sake, permit me, ladies, to go out and put on clothing proper to my sex, and wash my hands from blood a little; for I am coming from a terrible battle. Oh, if we hadn't cut down Azba today, perhaps you ladies would not have arrived without accident at Hreptyoff. I will return in a moment, and Michael will be at your service meanwhile."
She vanished through the door; and then the little knight, who had greeted Pan Novoveski already, pushed up to Pani Boski. "God has given me such a wife," said he to her, "that she is not only a loving companion in the house, but can be a valiant comrade in the field. Now, at her command I offer my services to your ladyship."
"May God bless her in everything," answered Pani Boski, "as He has blessed her in beauty! I am Antonia Boski; I have not come to exact services from your grace, but to beg on my knees for aid and rescue in misfortune. Zosia, kneel down here too before the knight; for if he cannot help us, no man can."
Pani Boski fell on her knees then, and the comely Zosia followed her example; both, shedding ardent tears, began to cry, "Save us, knight! Have pity on orphans!"
A crowd of officers, made curious, drew near on seeing the kneeling women, and especially because the sight of the comely Zosia attracted them; the little knight, greatly confused, raised Pani Boski, and seated her on a bench. "In God's name," asked he, "what are you doing? I should kneel first before a worthy woman. Tell, your ladyship, in what I can render assistance, and as God is in heaven, I will not delay."
"He will do what he promises; I, on my part, offer myself! Zagloba sum! it is enough for you to know that!" said the old warrior, moved by the tears of the women.
Then Pani Boski beckoned to Zosia; she took quickly from her bosom a letter, which she gave to the little knight. He looked at the letter and said, "From the hetman!" Then he broke the seal and began to read: —
Very Dear and Beloved Volodyovski! – I send from the road to you, through Pan Bogush, my sincere love and instructions, which Pan Bogush will communicate to you personally. I have barely recovered from fatigues in Yavorov, when immediately another affair comes up. This affair is very near my heart, because of the affection which I bear soldiers, whom if I forgot, the Lord God would forget me. Pan Boski, a cavalier of great honor and a dear comrade, was taken by the horde some years since, near Kamenyets. I have given shelter to his wife and daughter in Yavorov; but their hearts are weeping, – one for a husband, the other for a father. I wrote through Pyotrovich to Pan Zlotnitski, our Resident in the Crimea, to look for Pan Boski everywhere. They found him, it seems; but the Tartars hid him afterward, therefore he could not be given up with other prisoners, and doubtless is rowing in a galley to this time. The women, despairing and hopeless, have ceased to importune me; but I, on returning recently, and seeing their unappeased sorrow, could not refrain from attempting some rescue. You are near the place, and have concluded, as I know, brotherhood with many murzas. I send the ladies to you, therefore, and do you give them aid. Pyotrovich will go soon to the Crimea. Give him letters to those murzas with whom you are in brotherhood. I cannot write to the vizir or the Khan, for they are not friendly to me; and besides, I fear that if I should write, they would consider Boski a very eminent person, and increase the ransom beyond measure. Commend the affair urgently to Pyotrovich, and command him not to return without Boski. Stir up all your brothers; though Pagans, they observe plighted faith always, and must have great respect for you. Finally, do what you please; go to Rashkoff; promise three of the most considerable Tartars in exchange, if they return Boski alive. No one knows better than you all their methods, for, as I hear, you have ransomed relatives already. God bless you, and I will love you still more, for my heart will cease to bleed. I have heard of your management in Hreptyoff, that it is quiet there. I expected this. Only keep watch on Azba. Pan Bogush will tell you all about public affairs. For God's sake, listen carefully in the direction of Moldavia, for a great invasion will not miss us. Committing Pani Boski to your heart and efforts, I subscribe myself, etc.
Pani Boski wept without ceasing during the reading of the letter; and Zosia accompanied her, raising her blue eyes to heaven. Meanwhile, and before Pan Michael had finished, Basia ran in, dressed in woman's garments; and seeing tears in the eyes of the ladies, began to inquire with sympathy what the matter was. Therefore Pan Michael read the hetman's letter for her; and when she had listened to it carefully, she supported at once and with eagerness the prayers of the hetman and Pani Boski.
"The hetman has a golden heart," cried Basia, embracing her husband; "but we shall not show a worse one, Michael. Pani Boski will stay with us till her husband's return, and you will bring him in three months from the Crimea. In three or in two, is it not true?"
"Or to-morrow, or in an hour!" said Pan Michael, bantering. Here he turned to Pani Boski, "Decisions, as you see, are quick with my wife."
"May God bless her for that!" said Pani Boski. "Zosia, kiss the hand of the lady commandress."
But the lady commandress did not think of giving her hands to be kissed; she embraced Zosia again, for in some way they pleased each other at once. "Help us, gracious gentlemen," cried she. "Help us, and quickly!"
"Quickly, for her head is burning!" muttered Zagloba.
But Basia, shaking her yellow forelock, said, "Not my head, but the hearts of those gentlemen are burning from sorrow."
"No one will oppose your honest intention," said Pan Michael; "but first we must hear Pani Boski's story in detail."
"Zosia, tell everything as it was, for I cannot, from tears," said the matron.
Zosia dropped her eyes toward the floor, covering them entirely with the lids; then she became as red as a cherry, not knowing how to begin, and was greatly abashed at having to speak in such a numerous assembly.
But Basia came to her aid. "Zosia, and when did they take Pan Boski captive?"
"Five years ago, in 1667," said Zosia, with a thin voice, without raising the long lashes from her eyes. And she began in one breath to tell the story: "There were no raids to be heard of at that time, and papa's squadron was near Panyovtsi. Papa, with Pan Bulayovski, was looking after men who were herding cattle in the meadows, and the Tartars came then on the Wallachian road, and took papa, with Pan Bulayovski; but Pan Bulayovski returned two years ago, and papa has not returned."
Here two tears began to flow down Zosia's cheeks, so that Zagloba was moved at sight of them, and said, "Poor girl! Do not fear, child; papa will return, and will dance yet at your wedding."
"But did the hetman write to Pan Zlotnitski through Pyotrovich?" inquired Volodyovski.
"The hetman wrote about papa to the sword-bearer of Poznan," recited Zosia; "and the sword-bearer and Pan Pyotrovich found papa with Aga Murza Bey."
"In God's name! I know that Murza Bey. I was in brotherhood with his brother," said Volodyovski. "Would he not give up Pan Boski?"
"There was a command of the Khan to give up papa; but Murza Bey is severe, cruel. He hid papa, and told Pan Pyotrovich that he had sold him long before into Asia. But other captives told Pan Pyotrovich that that was not true, and that the murza only said that purposely, so that he might abuse papa longer; for he is the cruellest of all the Tartars toward prisoners. Perhaps papa was not in the Crimea then; for the murza has his own galleys, and needs men for rowing. But papa was not sold; all the prisoners said that the murza would rather kill a prisoner than sell him."
"Holy truth!" said Pan Mushalski. "They know that Murza Bey in the whole Crimea. He is a very rich Tartar, but wonderfully venomous against our people, for four brothers of his fell in campaigns against us."
"But has he never formed brotherhood among our people?" asked Pan Michael.
"It is doubtful!" answered the officers from every side.
"Tell me once what that brotherhood is," said Basia.
"You see," said Zagloba, "when negotiations are begun at the end of war, men from both armies visit one another and enter into friendship. It happens then that an officer inclines to himself a murza, and a murza an officer; then they vow to each other life-friendship, which they call brotherhood. The more famous a man is, as Michael, for instance, or I, or Pan Rushchyts, who holds command in Rashkoff now, the more is his brotherhood sought. It is clear that such a man will not conclude brotherhood with some common fellow, but will seek it only among the most renowned murzas. The custom is this, – they pour water on their sabres and swear mutual friendship; do you understand?"
"And how if it comes to war afterward?"
"They can fight in a general war; but if they meet alone, if they are attacking as skirmishers, they will greet each other, and depart in friendship. Also if one of them falls into captivity, the other is bound to alleviate it, and in the worst case to ransom him; indeed, there have been some who shared their property with brothers. When it is a question of friends or acquaintances, or of finding some one, brothers go to brothers; and justice commands us to acknowledge that no people observe such oaths better than the Tartars. The word is the main thing with them, and, such a friend you can trust certainly."
"But has Michael many such?"
"I have three powerful murzas," answered Volodyovski; "and one of them is from Lubni times. Once I begged him of Prince Yeremi. Aga Bey is his name; and even now, if he had to lay his head down for me, he would lay it down. The other two are equally reliable."
"Ah," said Basia, "I should like to conclude brotherhood with the Khan himself, and free all the prisoners."
"He would not be averse to that," said Zagloba; "but it is not known what reward he would ask of you."
"Permit me, gentlemen," said Pan Michael; "let us consider what we ought to do. Now listen; we have news from Kamenyets that in two weeks at the furthest Pyotrovich will be here with a numerous escort. He will go to the Crimea with ransom for a number of Armenian merchants from Kamenyets, who at the change of the Khan were plundered and taken captive. That happened to Seferovich, the brother of Pretor. All those people are very wealthy; they will not spare money, and Pyotrovich will go well provided. No danger threatens him; for, first, winter is near, and it is not the time for chambuls, and, secondly, with him are going Naviragh, the delegate of the Patriarch of Echmiadzin, and the two Anardrats from Kaffa, who have a safe-conduct from the young Khan. I will give letters to Pyotrovich to the residents of the Commonwealth and to my brothers. Besides, it is known to you, gentlemen, that Pan Rushchyts, the commandant at Rashkoff, has relatives in the horde, who, taken captive in childhood, have become thoroughly Tartar, and have risen to dignities. All these will move earth and heaven, will try negotiations; in case of stubbornness on the part of the murza, they will rouse the Khan himself against him, or perhaps they will twist the murza's head somewhere in secret. I hope, therefore, that if, which God grant, Pan Boski is alive, I shall get him in a couple of months without fail, as the hetman commands, and my immediate superior here present" (at this Pan Michael bowed to his wife).
