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

“Evil!” answered the little knight. “You have seen wild beasts rushing from their lairs and escaping in the night.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means that they are frightened.”

“Who frightens them?”

“Troops, Cossack or Tartar, are coming toward us from the right hand.”

“But it may be our squadrons?”

“Impossible, for the beasts are fleeing from the east, from Pilavtsi. Doubtless, then, the Tartars are marching in a wide body.”

“Let us flee, Pan Michael, in God’s name!”

“There is no help. Oh, if the princess were not here, we could go quite near them; but with her the passage will be very difficult if they set eyes on us.”

“Have the fear of God, Pan Michael. Shall we turn to the woods and run after the wolves, or what?”

“Impossible; for though the enemy would not reach us at once, they would deluge the country in front of us, and then how should we escape?”

“May brimstone thunderbolts shake them! This alone was wanting to us. Oh, Pan Michael, are you not mistaken? You know wolves follow an army; they do not run before it.”

“Those at the flanks follow the army and gather in from every side, but those in front get frightened. Look! on the right, between the trees, there is a fire.”

“Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews!”

“Silence! Is there much more of this forest?”

“We shall be at the end in a moment.”

“And then a field?”

“Yes, O Jesus!”

“No noise! Beyond the field there is another forest?”

“Extending to Matchin.”

“We shall be all right if they don’t overtake us in this field. If we reach the second forest in safety, we are at home. Let us go together then. Luckily the princess and Jendzian are on Burlai’s horses.”

They put spurs to the horses, and joined the princess and Jendzian.

“What fire is that on the right?” asked the princess.

“There is no use in hiding it from you; that may be Tartars.”

“Jesus, Mary!”

“Have no fear. My neck for it, we shall escape them, and our squadrons are in Matchin.”

“For God’s sake, let us be off!” said Jendzian.

They were silent, and sped on like ghosts. The trees began to grow thinner; they were reaching the end of the forest, and the fire was somewhat dimmer too. Suddenly Helena turned to Volodyovski.

“Swear to me, gentlemen,” said she, “that I shall not go alive into their hands.”

“You will not,” said Volodyovski, “while I am alive.”

They had barely passed the end and come into an open field about a mile in width, and on the other side of it another line of forest stood dark. That bald space of earth open on every side was all silvered over from the rays of the moon. All things were as visible on it as in the daytime.

“This is the worst piece of road,” whispered Volodyovski to Zagloba; “for if they are in Chorni Ostroff, they will pass between these forests.”

Zagloba gave no answer; he only pressed the horse with his heels.

They had run to the middle of the field, the opposite forest was growing nearer each moment and more distinct, when suddenly the little knight stretched out his hand to the east. “Look!” said he to Zagloba; “do you see?”

“Some kind of branches and thicket in the distance.”

“Those branches are moving. Now on, on, push on! for they see us beyond a doubt.”

The wind whistled past the ears of the fleeing; the forest of salvation drew nearer each instant.

All at once out of that dark mass approaching from the right side of the field flew on as it were the roar of sea waves, and the next moment one great shout rent the air.

“They see us!” bellowed Zagloba. “Dogs, ruffians, devils, wolves, scoundrels!”

The forest was so near that the fugitives almost felt its cold, austere breath; but also the cloud of Tartars became each moment more clearly outlined, and from the dark body of it long arms began to push out like the horns of some gigantic monster, and approached the fugitives with inconceivable rapidity. The trained ear of Volodyotski already distinguished clearly: “Allah! Allah!”

“My horse has stumbled!” shouted Zagloba.

“That is nothing!” cried Volodyovski.

But through his head that moment there flew like thunderbolts the questions: “What will happen if the horses do not hold out? What will happen if one of them falls?” They were valiant Tartar steeds of iron endurance, but they had come already from Ploskiri, resting but little on that wild flight from the town to the first forest. They might, it is true, take the led horses, but they too were tired. “What is to be done?” thought Volodyovski; and his heart throbbed with alarm⁠—perhaps for the first time in his life⁠—not for himself, but for Helena, whom during that long journey he had come to love as his own sister. And he knew too that the Tartars when they had once begun pursuit would not relinquish it very soon. “Let them keep on, they will not catch her,” said he, setting his teeth.

“My horse has stumbled!” cried Zagloba a second time.

“That is nothing!” answered Volodyovski again.

They were now in the forest, darkness around them; but single Tartar horsemen were not farther than a few hundred yards behind. But the little knight knew now what to do.

“Jendzian,” cried he, “turn with the lady to the first path leading out of the highway.”

“Good, my master!”

The little knight turned to Zagloba. “Pistol in hand!” At the same time, seizing the bridle of Zagloba’s horse, he began to restrain his course.

“What are you doing?” cried the noble.

“Nothing! Hold in your horse!”

The distance between them and Jendzian, who had escaped with Helena, increased every moment. At last he came with her to a point where the highway turned rather sharply toward Zbaraj, and straight ahead lay a narrow forest-trail half hidden by branches. Jendzian rushed into it, and in a twinkle the two had disappeared in the thicket and the gloom.

Meanwhile Volodyovski had stopped his own horse and Zagloba’s.

“In the name of God’s mercy, what are you doing?” roared Zagloba.

“We delay the pursuit.