Генрик Сенкевич
With Fire and Sword
"Wordy priest! it is not your affair to give the lie to me. But come outdoors, and I will show you how to respect Zaporojian colonels!"
Others, however, hurried to quiet him; but not succeeding, they put him out of the room.
"When, mighty hetman, do you wish that the commissioners should meet?" asked Kisel, wishing to give another turn to the conversation.
Unfortunately Hmelnitski was no longer sober, therefore he gave a quick and biting answer, -
"To-morrow will be business and discussion, for now I am in drink. Why do you talk now of commissions; you do not give me time to eat and drink. I have enough of this already! Now there must be war!" And he thumped the table till the dishes and cups jumped. "In those four weeks I'll turn you all feet upward and trample you, and sell the remnant to the Turkish Tsar. The king will be king, so as to execute nobles, dukes, princes. If a prince offends, cut off his head; if a Cossack offends, cut off his head! You threaten me with the Swedes, but they cannot stand before me. Tugai Bey is near me, my brother, my soul; the only falcon in the world, he is ready at once to do everything that I wish."
Here Hmelnitski, with the rapidity peculiar to drunken men, passed from anger to tenderness, till his voice trembled from emotion.
"You wish me to raise my sabre against the Turks and Tartars, but in vain. I'll go against you with my good friends. I have sent my regiments around so as to provender the horses and to be ready for the road, without wagons, without cannon. I shall find all those among the Poles. I will order any Cossack to be beheaded who takes a wagon, and I will take no carriage myself, nothing but packs and bags; in this fashion I will go to the Vistula and say: 'Poles, sit still and be quiet!' And if you say anything beyond the Vistula, then I'll find you there. We have had enough of your lordship and your dragoons, you cursed reptiles living by injustice itself!"
Here he sprang from his seat, pulled his hair, stamped with his feet, crying that there must be war, for he had already received absolution and a blessing for it; he had nothing to do with commissions and commissioners, he would not allow a suspension of arms.
Seeing at length the terror of the commissioners, and recollecting that if they went away at once, war would begin in the winter, consequently at a time when the Cossacks, not being able to entrench themselves, fought badly in the open field, he calmed down a little and again sat on the bench, dropped his head on his breast, rested his hands on his knees, and breathed hoarsely. Finally he took a glass of vudka.
"To the health of the king!" cried he.
"To his glory and health!" repeated the colonels.
"Now, Kisel, don't be gloomy," said the hetman, "and don't take to heart what I say, for I've been drinking. Fortune-tellers inform me that there must be war, but I'll wait till next grass. Let there be a commission then; I will free the captives at that time. They tell me that you are ill, so let this be to your health!"
Again Hmelnitski dropped into momentary tenderness, and resting his hand on the shoulder of the voevoda brought his enormous red face to the pale, emaciated cheeks of Kisel.
After him came other colonels, and approaching the commissioners with familiarity shook their hands, clapped them on the shoulders, repeated after the hetman: "Till next grass." The commissioners were in torment. The peasant breaths, filled with the odor of gorailka, came upon the faces of those nobles of high birth, for whom the pressure of those sweating hands was as unendurable as an affront. Threatenings also were not lacking among the expressions of vulgar cordiality. Some cried to the voevoda: "We want to kill Poles, but you are our man!" Others said: "Well, in times past, you killed our people, now you ask favors! Destruction to you!" "You white hands!" cried Ataman Vovk, formerly miller in Nestervar, "I slew my landlord. Prince Chertvertinski." "Give us Yeremi," said Yashevski, rolling along, "and we will let you off!"
It became stifling in the room and hot beyond endurance. The table covered with remnants of meat, fragments of bread, stained with vudka and mead, was disgusting. At last the fortune-tellers came in, – conjurers with whom the hetman usually drank till late at night, listening to their predictions, – strange forms, old, bent, yellow, or in the vigor of youth, soothsaying from wax, grains of wheat, fire, water, foam, from the bottom of a flask or from human fat. Among the colonels and the youngest of them there was frolicking and laughing. Kisel came near fainting.
"We thank you, Hetman, for the feast, and we bid you good-by," said he, with a weak voice.
"Kisel, I will come to you to-morrow to dine," answered Hmelnitski, "and now return home. Donyéts with his men will attend you, so that nothing may happen to you from the crowd."
The commissioners bowed and went out. Donyéts with the Cossacks was waiting at the door.
"O God! O God! O God!" whispered Kisel, quietly, raising his hands to his face.
The party moved in silence to the quarters of the commissioners. But it appeared that they were not to stop near one another. Hmelnitski had assigned them purposely quarters in different parts of the town, so that they could not meet and counsel easily.
Kisel, suffering, exhausted, barely able to stand, went to bed immediately, and permitted no one to see him till the following day; then before noon he ordered Pan Yan to be called.
"Have you acted wisely?" asked he. "What have you done? You might have exposed our lives and your own to destruction."
"Serene voevoda, mea culpa! but delirium carried me away, and I preferred to perish a hundred times rather than behold such things."
"Hmelnitski saw the slight put on him, and I was barely able to pacify the wild beast and explain your act. He will be with me to-day, and will undoubtedly ask for you. Then tell him that you had an order from me to lead away the soldiers."
"From to-day forth Bjozovski takes the command, for he is well."
"That is better; you are too stubborn for these times. It is difficult to blame you for anything in this act except lack of caution; but it is evident that you are young and cannot bear the pain that is in your breast."
"I am accustomed to pain, serene voevoda, but I cannot endure disgrace."
Kisel groaned quietly, just like an invalid when touched on the sore spot. Then he smiled with a gloomy resignation, and said, -
"Such words are daily bread for me, which for a long time I eat moistened with bitter tears; but now the tears have failed me."
Pity rose in Skshetuski's heart at the sight of this old man with his martyr's face, who was passing the last days of his life in double suffering, for it was a suffering both of the mind and the body.
"Serene voevoda," said he, "God is my witness that I was thinking only of these fearful times when senators and dignitaries of the Crown are obliged to bow down before the rabble, for whom the empaling stake should be the only return for their deeds."
"God bless you, for you are young and honest. I know that you have no evil intention. But that which you say your prince says, and with him the army, the nobles, the Diets, half the Commonwealth; and all that burden of scorn and hatred falls upon me."
"Each serves the country as he understands, and let God judge intentions. As to Prince Yeremi, he serves the country with his health and his property."
"Applause surrounds him, and he walks in it as in the sunlight," answered the voevoda. "And what comes to me? Oh, you have spoken justly! Let God judge intentions, and may he give even a quiet grave to those who in life suffer beyond measure."
Skshetuski was silent, and Kisel raised his eyes in mute prayer. After a while he began to speak, -
"I am a Russian, blood and bone. The tomb of the Princes Sviatoldovichi lies in this land; therefore I have loved it and that people of God whom it nourishes at its breast. I have witnessed injuries committed by both sides; I have seen the license of the wild Zaporojians, but also the unendurable insolence of those who tried to enslave that warlike people. What was I to do, – I, a Russian, and at the same time a true son and senator of this Commonwealth? I joined myself to those who said 'Pax vobiscum!' because my blood and my heart so enjoined; and among the men whom I joined were our father, the late king, the chancellor, the primate, and many others. I saw that for both sides dissension was destruction; I desired all my life to my last breath to labor for concord; and when blood was already shed I thought to myself, 'I will be an angel of union.' I continued to labor, and I labor still, though in pain, torment, and disgrace, and in doubt almost more terrible than all. As God is dear to me, I know not now whether your prince came too early with his sword or I too late with the olive branch; but this I see, that my work is breaking, that strength is wanting, that in vain I knock my gray head against the wall, and going down to the grave I see only darkness before me, and destruction, – O God! destruction on every side."
"God will send salvation."
"May he send a ray of it before my death, that I die not in despair! – this in return for all my sufferings. I will thank him for the cross which I carry during life, – thank him because the mob cry for my head, because they call me a traitor at the Diets, because my property is plundered, and for the disgrace in which I live, – for all the bitter reward which I have received from both sides."
When he had finished speaking, the voevoda extended his dry hands toward heaven; and two great tears, perhaps the very last in his life, flowed out of his eyes.
Pan Yan could restrain himself no longer, but falling on his knees before the voevoda, seized his hand, and said in a voice broken by great emotion, -
"I am a soldier, and move on another path; but I give honor to merit and suffering." And the noble and knight from the regiment of Yeremi pressed to his lips the hand of that Russian who some months before he with others had called a traitor.
Kisel placed both hands on Skshetuski's head. "My son," said he in a low voice, "may God comfort, guide, and bless you, as I bless you."
The vicious circle of negotiations began from that very day. Hmelnitski came rather late to the voevoda's dinner, and in the worst temper. He declared immediately that what he had said yesterday about suspension of arms, a commission at Whitsuntide, and the liberation of prisoners he said while drunk, and that he now saw an intention to deceive him. Kisel calmed him again, pacified him, gave reasons; but these speeches were, according to the words of the chamberlain of Lvoff, "surdo tyranno fabula dicta." The hetman began then with such rudeness that the commissioners were sorry not to have the Hmelnitski of yesterday. He struck Pan Pozovski with his baton, only because he had appeared before him out of season, in spite of the fact that Pozovski was nearly dead already from serious illness.
Neither courtesy and good-will nor the persuasions of the voevoda were of use. When he had become somewhat excited by gorailka and the choice mead of Gushchi, he fell into better humor, but then he would not on any account let himself speak of public affairs, saying, "If we are to drink, let us drink, – to-morrow business and discussion, – if not, I'll be off with myself." About three o'clock in the morning he insisted on going to the sleeping-room of the voevoda, which the latter opposed under various pretexts; for he had shut in Skshetuski there on purpose, fearing that at the meeting of this stubborn soldier with Hmelnitski something disagreeable might happen which would be the destruction of the colonel. But Hmelnitski insisted and went, followed by Kisel. What was the astonishment of the voevoda when the hetman, seeing the knight, nodded to him, and cried, -
"Skshetuski, why were you not drinking with us?" And he stretched out his hand to him in a friendly manner.
"Because I am sick," replied the colonel, bowing.
"You went away yesterday. The pleasure was nothing to me without you."
"Such was the order he had," put in Kisel.
"Don't tell me that, Voevoda. I know him, and I know that he did not want to see you giving me honor. Oh, he is a bird! But what would not be forgiven another is forgiven him, for I like him, and he is my dear friend."
Kisel opened wide his eyes in astonishment. The hetman turned to Pan Yan. "Do you know why I like you?"
Skshetuski shook his head.
"You think it is because you cut the lariat at Omelnik when I was a man of small note and they hunted me like a wild beast. No, it is not that. I gave you a ring then with dust from the grave of Christ. Horned soul! you did not show me that ring when you were in my hands; but I set you at liberty anyhow, and we were even. That's not why I like you now. You rendered me another service, for which you are my dear friend, and for which I owe you thanks."
Pan Yan looked with astonishment at Hmelnitski.
"See how he wonders!" said the hetman, as if speaking to 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 Kieff, where he wished to come himself to marry her. Give me, O Hetman, the right to go to Kieff 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 Kieff, and farther to the first Polish outposts.
Next day Skshetuski left Pereyasláv.
CHAPTER 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 for a whole order would be diminished thereby; but Zagloba answered that the laws were to blame for that, because they permit townspeople to grow up in luxury and to come to wealth, which should be the portion of nobles alone; he prophesied that no good could come of such great privileges for insignificant people. It was difficult indeed to blame him in a period of gloomy winter days amidst uncertainty, weariness, and waiting.
Gradually Vishnyevetski's regiments began to assemble in greater and greater numbers at Zbaraj, from which fact war in the spring was prophesied. Meanwhile people became more lively. Among others came the hussar squadron of Pan Yan, with Podbipienta. He brought tidings of the disfavor in which the prince was at court, and of the death of Pan Yanush Tishkyevich, the voevoda of Kieff, whom, according to general report, Kisel was to succeed, and finally of the serious illness with which Pan Lashch was stricken down in Cracow. As to war, Podbipienta heard from the prince himself that only by force of events and necessity would it come, for the commissioners had gone with instructions to make every concession possible to the Cossacks. This account of Podbipienta's was received by the prince's knights with rage; and Zagloba proposed to make a protest and form a confederation, for he said he did not wish his labor at Konstantinoff to go for nothing.
All February passed with these tidings and uncertainties, and the middle of March was approaching; but from Skshetuski there was no word. Volodyovski began to insist all the more on their expedition.
"We have to seek now not for the princess," said he, "but for Pan Yan."
It was soon shown that Zagloba was right in delaying the expedition from day to day, for at the end of March the Cossack Zakhar came with a letter from Kieff addressed to Volodyovski. Pan Michael summoned Zagloba at once, and when they had closeted themselves with the messenger in a room apart, he broke the seal and read the following: -
I discovered no trace on the Dniester as far as Yagorlik. Supposing that she must be hidden in Kieff, I joined the commissioners, with whom I went to Pereyasláv. Obtaining there the hoped for consent from Hmelnitski, I arrived at Kieff, and am making a search for her everywhere, in which the metropolitan assists me. Many of our people are hidden in private houses and in monasteries, but fearing the mob, they do not declare themselves; therefore search is difficult. God not only guided and protected me, but inspired Hmelnitski with an affection for me; wherefore I hope that He will assist me and have mercy on me for the future. I beg the priest Mukhovetski for a solemn Mass, at which you will pray for my intention.
Skshetuski.
"Praise be to God the Eternal!" cried Volodyovski.
"There is a postscript yet," said Zagloba.
"True!" answered the little knight; and he read further: -
"The bearer of this letter, the essaul of the Mirgorod kuren, had me in his honest care when I was at the Saitch and in captivity, and now he has aided me in Kieff and has undertaken to deliver this letter with risk to his life. Have him in your care, Michael, so that nothing may be wanting to him."
"'You are an honest Cossack; there is at least one such!" said Zagloba, giving his hand to Zakhar.
The old man pressed it with dignity.
"You may be sure of reward," interjected the little knight.
"He is a falcon," said the Cossack; "I like him. I did not come here for money."
"I see you are not lacking in a spirit which no noble would be ashamed of," said Zagloba. "They are not all beasts among you, – not all beasts. But no more of this! Then Pan Skshetuski is in Kieff?"
"He is."
"And in safety, for I hear that the mob is revelling?"
"He stops with Colonel Donyéts. They will do nothing to him, for our father Hmelnitski ordered Donyéts to guard him at the peril of his life as the eye in his head."
"Real wonders take place! How did Hmelnitski get such a liking for Pan Yan?"
"Oh, he has liked him a long time!"
"Did Pan Skshetuski tell you what he was looking for in Kieff?"
"Why shouldn't he tell me when he knows that I am his friend? I searched with him and searched by myself; so he had to tell me what he was looking for."
"But so far you haven't found her?"
"We have not. Whatever Poles are there yet are hiding, one does not know of the other, so that it is not easy to find any one. You heard that the mob kill people, but I have seen it; they kill not only Poles, but those who hide them, even monks and nuns. In the monastery of Nikolai the Good there were twelve Polish women with the nuns; they suffocated them in the cells together with the nuns. Every couple of days a shout is raised on the street, and people are hunted and dragged to the Dnieper. Oh, how many have been drowned already!"
"Perhaps they have killed the princess too?"
"Perhaps they have."
"No," interrupted Volodyovski; "if Bogun took her there, he must have made it safe for her."
"Where is it safer than in a monastery? But for all that they kill people there."
"Uf!" said Zagloba. "So you think, Zakhar, that she might have perished?"
"I don't know."
"It is evident that Skshetuski is in good heart," said Zagloba. "God has visited him, but he comforts him. And is it long since you left Kieff, Zakhar?"
"Oh, long! I left Kieff when the commissioners were passing there on their return. Many Poles wished to escape with them, and did escape, the unfortunates! As each one was able, over the snow, over pathless tracts, through forests, they hurried to Belogrodki; but the Cossacks pursued and beat them. Many fled, many were killed, and some Pan Kisel ransomed with what money he had."
"Oh, the dog-souls! And so you came out with the commissioners?"
"With the commissioners to Gushchi, and from there to Ostrog; farther I came alone."
"Then you are an old acquaintance of Pan Skshetuski?"
"I made his acquaintance in the Saitch, nursed him when he was wounded, and then I learned to like him as if he were my own child. I am old, and have nobody to love."
Zagloba called to the servant, gave orders to bring in mead and meat, and they sat down to supper. Zakhar ate heartily, for he was road-weary and hungry; then he sank his gray mustaches eagerly in the dark liquid, drank, smacked his lips, and said: "Splendid mead!"
"Better than the blood which you folks drink," said Zagloba. "But I think that you are an honest man, and loving Pan Skshetuski, will not go any more to the rebellion, but remain with us. It will be good for you here."
Zakhar raised his head. "I delivered the letter, now I'll go back. I am a Cossack. It is for me to be a brother with the Cossacks, not with the Poles."
"And will you beat us?"
"I will. I am a Cossack of the Saitch. We elected Hmelnitski hetman, and now the king has sent him the baton and the banner."
"There it is for you, Pan Michael! Have not I advised a protest? And from what kuren are you?"
"From the Mirgorod; but it is no longer in existence."
"What has happened to it?"
"The hussars of Pan Charnetski at Jóltiya Vodi cut it to pieces. I am under Donyéts now, with those who survived. Pan Charnetski is a real soldier; he is with us in captivity, and the commissioners have interceded for him."
"We have your prisoners too."
"That must be so. In Kieff they say that our best hero is a captive with the Poles, though some say he is dead."
"Who is that?"
"Oh, the famous ataman, Bogun."
"Bogun was killed in a duel."
"But who killed him?"
"That knight there," said Zagloba, pointing proudly to Volodyovski.
The eyes of Zakhar, who at that moment had raised the second quart of mead, stared, his face grew purple, and at last he snorted the liquid through his nostrils as he laughed. "That knight killed Bogun?" he asked, coughing violently from laughter.
"What's the matter with the old devil?" asked Volodyovski, frowning. "This messenger takes too much liberty on himself."
"Be not angry, Pan Michael!" interrupted Zagloba. "He is clearly an honest man, and if a stranger to politeness it is because he is a Cossack. On the other hand, it is the greater praise for you that though you are so paltry in appearance you have wrought such mighty deeds in your time. Your body is insignificant, but your soul is great. I myself, as you remember, when looking at you after the duel, though I saw the struggle with my own eyes, could not believe that such a whipper-snapper-"
"Oh, let us have peace!" blurted out Volodyovski.
"I am not your father, so don't be angry with me. But I tell you this; I should like to have a son like you, and if you wish, I will adopt you and convey all my property to you; for it is no shame to be great in a small body. The prince is not much larger than you, and Alexander the Great would not deserve to be his armor-bearer."
"What makes me angry," said Volodyovski, somewhat mollified, "is specially this, that nothing favorable to Skshetuski is evident from this letter. He did not lay down his head on the Dniester, God be thanked for that; but he has not found the princess yet, and what surety is there that he will find her?"
"True. But if God through us has freed him from Bogun, and has conducted him through so many dangers, through so many snares, if he has inspired even the stony heart of Hmelnitski with a wonderful affection for him, you have no reason to dry up from torment and sorrow into smoked bacon. If you do not see in all this the hand of Providence, it is clear that your wit is duller than your sabre, – a reasonable arrangement enough, since no man can have all gifts at once."
"I see one thing," answered Volodyovski, moving his mustaches, – "that we have nothing to do here, and still we must stay here till we wither up altogether."
"I shall wither up sooner than you, for I am older, and you know that turnips wither and salt meat grows bitter from age. Let us rather thank God for promising a happy end to all our troubles. Not a little have I grieved for the princess, – more indeed than you have, and little less than Skshetuski, – for she is my dear daughter, and it is true that I might not love my own so much. They say indeed that she is as much like me as one cup is like another; but I love her besides that, and you would not see me either happy or at peace if I did not hope that her trouble would soon come to an end. To-morrow I shall write a wedding-hymn; for I write very beautiful verses, though in recent times I have neglected Apollo somewhat for Mars."
"What is the use in thinking of Mars now! May the hangman take that Kisel and all the commissioners and their treaties! They will make peace in the spring as true as two and two are four. Pan Podbipienta, who saw the prince, says so too."
"Podbipienta knows as much of public affairs as a goat does of pepper. While at the court his mind was more on that tufted lark than anything else, and he pushed up to her as a dog to a partridge. God grant that some one else may get her from him! But enough of this! I do not deny that Kisel is a traitor, – all the Commonwealth knows that; but as to treaties, – well, grandmother talks both ways."
Here Zagloba turned to the Cossack. "And what, Zakhar, do they say among your folks? Will there be peace or war?"
