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

“I will not spare money for candles in the church when I succeed in gaining anything, so that God too should have some profit from me and bless me; and it is no sin to help my parents.”

“What a rascal, what a finished scoundrel!” cried Zagloba to Volodyovski. “I thought my tricks would go with me to the grave; but I see that this is a still greater rogue. So through the cunning of this youth we shall free our princess from Bogun’s captivity, with Bogun’s permission, and on Burlai’s horses! Has any man ever seen such a thing? And to look at him you wouldn’t give three copper coins for the fellow!”

Jendzian laughed with satisfaction, and said: “Will that be bad for us, my master?”

“You please me, and were it not for your greed I should take you into my service; but since you have tricked Bogun in such style, I forgive you for having called me a sot.”

“It was not I who called you that, but Bogun.”

“Well, God has punished him.”

In such conversation the morning passed; but when the sun had rolled up high on the vault of heaven they became serious, for in a few hours they were to see Valadinka. After a long journey they were near their object at last; and disquiet, natural in such cases, crept into their hearts. Was Helena still alive? And if alive, would they find her? Horpyna might have taken her out, or might at the last moment have hidden her somewhere else among the secret places of the ravine, or have killed her. Obstacles were not all overcome yet, dangers were not all passed. They had, it is true, all the tokens by which Horpyna was to recognize them as Bogun’s messengers, carrying out his will; but would the devils or the spirits forewarn her? Jendzian feared this most; and even Zagloba, though pretending to be an expert in the black art, did not think of this without alarm. In such a case they would find the ravine empty or (what was worse) Cossacks from Rashkoff ambushed in it. Their hearts beat more strongly; and when finally, after some hours yet of travelling, they saw from the lofty rim of the ravine the glittering ribbon of water, the plump face of Jendzian paled a little.

“That is the Valadinka,” said he, in a suppressed voice.

“Already?” inquired Zagloba, in an equally low voice. “Are we so near as that?”

“May God guard us!” replied Jendzian. “Oh, my master, begin your exorcisms, for I am awfully afraid.”

“Exorcisms are folly. Let us bless the river and the secret places⁠—that will help more.”

Volodyovski was the calmest of all, but he kept silent, examining however his pistols carefully, and added new powder; then he felt to see if his sabre would come out of the scabbard easily.

“I have a consecrated bullet too in this pistol here,” said Jendzian. “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! Let us move on!”

“Move on! move on!” said Volodyovski.

After a time they found themselves on the bank of the little river, and turned their horses in the direction of its course. Here Volodyovski stopped them, and said⁠—

“Let Jendzian take the baton, for the witch knows him, and let him be the first to talk with her, so that she may not get frightened at us and run off with the princess into some hiding-place.”

“I will not go first, no matter what you do,” said Jendzian.

“Then go last, you drone!”

Having said this, Volodyovski went first, after him Zagloba, and in the rear with the packhorses clattered Jendzian, looking around with apprehension on every side. The hoofs of the horses rattled over the stones, around about reigned the dull silence of the desert; but grasshoppers and crickets hidden in the cliff chirped, for it was a sultry day, though the sun had passed the meridian considerably. Night had come at last to the eminence, rounded like an upturned shield, on which rocks fallen apart and burnt from the sun presented forms like ruins, tumble-down houses, and church-steeples; you might have thought it a castle or a place stormed by an enemy.

Jendzian looked at Zagloba and said: “This is the Devil’s Mound; I know it from what Bogun told me. No living thing passes here by night.”

“If it does not, it can,” answered Zagloba. “Tfu! what a cursed land! But at least we are on the right road.”

“The place is not far,” said Jendzian.

“Praise be to God!” answered Zagloba; and his mind was turned to the princess.

He had wonderful thoughts, and seeing those wild banks of the Valadinka, that desert and silent wilderness, he scarcely believed that the princess could be so near⁠—she for whose sake he had passed through so many adventures and dangers, and loved so that when the news of her death came he knew not what to do with his life and his old age. But on the other hand a man becomes intimate, even with misfortune. Zagloba, who had grown familiar with the thought that she had been taken away and was far off in Bogun’s power, did not dare to say now to himself: “The end of grief and search has come, the hour of success and peace has arrived.” Besides other thoughts crowded to his brain: “What will she say when she sees him? Will she not dissolve into tears when like a thunderbolt comes to her that rescue, after such long and painful captivity? God has his wonderful ways,” thought Zagloba, “and so succeeds in correcting everything that from this come the triumph of virtue and the shame of injustice. It was God who first gave Jendzian into the hands of Bogun, and then made friends of them. God arranged that War, the stern mother, called away the wild ataman from the fastnesses to which like a wolf he had carried his plunder. God afterward delivered him into the hands of Volodyovski, and again brought him into contact with