With Fire and Sword by Henryk Sienkiewicz (big ebook reader .txt) 📕

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 goodwill 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—tomorrow 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