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

take us together⁠—which is all the same to me, for I think it cannot be hotter in hell than here.”

“Forward!”

“At breakneck speed.”

They moved on, and soon after them the Cossacks; but the latter rode slowly, so that in a short time they were a good distance in the rear, and finally were lost to sight.

Bogun and Zagloba rode side by side in silence, both in deep thought. Zagloba pulled his mustache, and it was evident that he was working vigorously with his brain; he was planning, perhaps, how to extricate himself from the whole affair. At times he muttered something to himself half audibly; then again he looked at Bogun, on whose face was depicted now unrestrained anger, now grief.

“It is a wonder,” thought Zagloba to himself, “that though such a beauty, he was not able to bring the girl to his side. He is a Cossack, it is true, but a famous knight and a lieutenant-colonel, who sooner or later will become a noble, unless he joins the rebellion, which depends entirely on himself. Pan Skshetuski is a respectable cavalier and good-looking but he cannot compare in appearance with the Cossack, who is as beautiful as a picture. Ha! they will grapple when they meet, for both are champions of no common kind.”

“Bogun, do you know Pan Skshetuski well?” asked Zagloba, suddenly.

“No,” answered the Cossack, briefly.

“You will have difficult work with him. I saw him when he opened the door for himself with Chaplinski. He is a Goliath in drinking as well as fighting.”

Bogun made no reply, and again they were both buried in their own thoughts and anxieties; following which, Zagloba repeated from time to time: “So there is no help!”

Some hours passed. The sun had travelled far to the west, toward Chigirin; from the east a cool breeze sprang up. Zagloba took off his lynx-skin cap, raised his hand to his sweat-moistened head, and repeated again: “So there is no help!”

Bogun roused himself, as if from sleep. “What do you say?” he inquired.

“I say that it will be dark directly. Is it far yet?”

“No.”

In an hour it had grown dark in earnest, but they had already reached a woody ravine. At the end of the ravine a light was gleaming.

“That is Rozlogi,” said Bogun, suddenly.

“Is it? Whew! there is something cold in that ravine.”

Bogun reined in his horse. “Wait!” said he.

Zagloba looked at him. The eyes of the leader, which had the peculiarity of shining in the night, were gleaming at that moment like a pair of torches.

Both of them stood for a long time motionless at the edge of the ravine. At length the snorting of horses was heard in the distance. These were Bogun’s Cossacks coming on slowly from the depth of the forest.

The essaul approached for orders, which Bogun whispered in his ear; then the Cossacks halted again.

“Forward!” said Bogun to Zagloba.

Soon the dark masses of buildings around the mansion, the storehouses and well-sweeps stood in outline before their eyes. It was quiet in the yard. The dogs did not bark. A great golden moon shone above the buildings. From the garden came the odor of the cherry and apple blossoms. Everywhere it was quiet⁠—a night so wonderful that in truth it lacked only the sound of a lyre somewhere under the windows of the beautiful princess. There was light yet in some parts of the house.

The two horsemen approached the gate.

“Who is there?” called the voice of the night-guard.

“Don’t you know me, Maksim?”

“Oh, that is you! Glory to God!”

“For the ages of ages. Open the gate! And how is it with you?”

“All is well. You haven’t been in Rozlogi for a long time.”

The hinges of the gate squeaked sharply, the bridge fell over the fosse, and the two horsemen rode into the square.

“Look here, Maksim! don’t shut the gate, and don’t raise the bridge, for I am going out directly.”

“Oh! you hurry as if you had come for fire.”

“True! Tie the horse to the post!”

XVIII

The Kurtsevichi were not sleeping yet. They were supping in that anteroom, filled with weapons, which extended the whole width of the house, from the garden to the square on the other side. At the sight of Bogun and Zagloba, they sprang to their feet. On the face of the princess was reflected not only astonishment, but displeasure and fright as well. Only two of the young men were present⁠—Simeon and Nikolai.

“Oh, Bogun!” exclaimed the princess. “But what are you here for?”

“I came to do you homage, mother. Are you not glad to see me?”

“I am glad to see yon⁠—glad; but I wonder that you came, for I heard that you were on guard in Chigirin. But whom has God sent to us with you?”

“This is Pan Zagloba⁠—a noble, my friend.”

“We are glad to see you, sir,” said the princess.

“We are glad,” repeated Simeon and Nikolai.

“Worthy lady!” said Zagloba, “an untimely guest, it is true, is worse than a Tartar; but it is known also that whoever wishes to enter heaven must receive the traveller into his house, give meat to the hungry, and drink to the thirsty”⁠—

“Sit down, then; eat and drink,” said the old princess. “We are thankful that you have come. But, Bogun, I did not expect to see you; perhaps you have some business with us.”

“Perhaps I have,” answered Bogun, slowly.

“What is it?” asked the princess, disturbed.

“When the moment comes, we will talk about it. Let us rest a little. I have come straight from Chigirin.”

“It is evident that you were in a hurry to see us.”

“And whom should I be in a hurry to see, if not you? Is Princess Helena well?”

“Well,” replied the old lady, dryly.

“I should like to gladden my eyes with her.”

“Helena is sleeping.”

“That is too bad, for I shall not stay long.”

“Where are you going?”

“War, mother! There is no time for aught else. Any moment the hetmans may send us to the field, and it will be a pity to strike Zaporojians.