CHAPTER L.

  Next morning early the commissioners left Novoselki, and with themSkshetuski; but that was a tearful journey, in which at everystopping-place, in every village, they were threatened with death, andmet with contempt, which was worse than death,--worse specially inthis, that the commissioners bore in their own persons the dignity andmajesty of the Commonwealth. Pan Kisel grew ill, so that at everylodging-place he was borne from the sleigh to the house. Thechamberlain of Lvoff wept over his own disgrace and that of thecountry. Captain Bryshovski fell ill also from sleeplessness and toil.Pan Yan therefore took his place, and led on farther that hapless suiteamidst the pressure of crowds, insults, threats, skirmishes, andbattles.

  At Belgorod it seemed to the commissioners again that their last hourhad come. The crowd had beaten the sick Bryshovski, were killing PanGnyazdovski; and only the arrival of the metropolitan for an interviewwith the voevoda put a stop to the intended slaughter. They did notwish to admit the commissioners into Kieff at all. Prince Chetvertinskireturned, February 11, from Hmelnitski without an answer. Thecommissioners did not know what further to do or where to go. Theirreturn was prevented by immense parties waiting only for the breakingof negotiations to kill the envoys. The mob became more and moreinsolent; the bridles of the dragoons' horses were seized, and the roadstopped; stones, pieces of ice, and frozen lumps of snow were throwninto the sleigh of the voevoda. At Gvozdova, Skshetuski and Donyets hadto fight a bloody battle in which they dispersed several hundred of themob. The ensign of Novgrodek and Pan Smyarovski went with a newargument to persuade Hmelnitski to come to meet the commissioners atKieff, but the voevoda had little hope that they would live to reachhim. Meanwhile the commissioners in Khvastovo were forced to look withfolded arms on the crowds killing prisoners of both sexes and of everyage. Some were drowned through holes in the ice, some were drenchedwith water poured over them in the frost, others stabbed with forks orwhittled to death with knives. Eighteen of such days passed before atlast the answer came from Hmelnitski that he would not go to Kieff, butwas waiting in Pereyaslav for the voevoda and the commissioners.

  When they had crossed the Dnieper at Trypole and reached Voronkovo inthe night, from which place it was only thirty miles to Pereyaslav, theunfortunate commissioners drew a breath of relief, thinking that theirtorment was over. Hmelnitski went out two miles and a half to meetthem, wishing to show honor to the royal embassy, but how changed fromthose days in which he put himself forward as an injured man,--"quantummutatus ab illo!" as Kisel justly wrote of him. He rode forth with asuite of horsemen, with his colonels and essauls, with martial music,under the standard, bunchuk, and crimson banner, like a sovereignprince.

  The commissioners with their retinue halted at once; and Hmelnitski,riding up to the front sleigh, in which sat the voevoda, looked for awhile at his venerable face, then raised his cap slightly and said,--

  "With the forehead to you, Commissioners of the king, and to you,Voevoda. It had been better to commence treating with me long ago, whenI was less and did not know my own power; but because the king has sentyou to me, I receive you with thankful heart in my own land."

  "Greetings to you, Hetman!" answered Kisel. "His Majesty the King hassent us to present his favor and mete out justice."

  "I am thankful for the favor; but justice I have already meted out withthis [and here he struck upon his sabre] on your necks, and I will meteout more of it if you do not give me satisfaction."

  "You do not greet us very affably, Pan Hetman of the Zaporojians,--us,the envoys of the king."

  "I will not speak in the cold; there will be a better time for that,"replied Hmelnitski, dryly. "Let me into your sleigh, Kisel, for I wishto show you honor and ride with you."

  Then he dismounted and approached the sleigh. Kisel pushed himself tothe right, leaving the left side vacant. Seeing this, Hmelnitskifrowned and exclaimed: "Give me the right side!"

  "I am a senator of the Commonwealth," replied Kisel.

  "And what is a senator to me? Pan Pototski is the first senator andhetman of the Crown; I have him in fetters with others, and can empalehim to-morrow, if I wish."

  A blush appeared on the pale face of Kisel. "I represent the person ofthe king here!" said he.

  Hmelnitski frowned still more, but restrained himself and sat on theleft side, muttering: "Granted; he is king in Warsaw, but I am inRussia. I see that I have not trodden enough on your necks."

  Kisel gave no answer, but raised his eyes to heaven. He had already aforetaste of that which waited him, and he thought justly at that timethat if the road to Hmelnitski was a Calvary, to be envoy to him was apassion indeed.

  The horses moved to the town, in which twenty cannon were thunderingand all the bells tolling. Hmelnitski, as if fearing that thecommissioners should consider these sounds as given out exclusively intheir honor, said to the voevoda,--

  "I receive in this manner not only you but other ambassadors who aresent to me."

  And Hmelnitski spoke the truth, for in fact embassies were sent to himas to a reigning prince. Returning from Zamost under the influence ofthe election and the defeats inflicted by the Lithuanian forces, thehetman had not one half of this pride in his heart; but when Kieff wentforth to meet him with torches and banners, when the academy greetedhim "tamquam Moijsem, servatorem, salvatorem, liberatorem, populi deservitute lechica et bono omine Bogdan,--God-given;" when finally hewas called "illustrissimus princeps,"--then, according to the words ofa contemporary, "the beast was elated." He had a real sense of hispower, and felt the ground under his feet, which had been wanting tohim hitherto.

  Foreign embassies were a silent recognition as well of his power as ofhis separateness; the uninterrupted friendship of the Tartars,purchased by the greater part of the booty gained, and by the ill-fatedcaptives whom that leader of the people permitted to be taken from thepeople, promised support against every enemy; therefore Hmelnitski, whorecognized at Zamost the suzerainty and will of the king, was at thattime so settled in pride, convinced of his own power, of the disorderof the Commonwealth, the incompetence of its leaders, that he was readyto raise his hand against the king himself, dreaming in his gloomysoul, not of Cossack freedom nor the restoration of the formerprivileges of the Zaporojians, not of justice for himself, but of aseparate lordship, of a princely crown and sceptre.

  And he felt himself master of the Ukraine. The Zaporojians clung tohim, for never under any man's command had they so wallowed in bloodand booty. A people wild by nature rallied to him; for while thepeasant of Mazovia or of Great Poland bore without a murmur that burdenof power and oppression which in all Europe weighed upon the"descendants of Ham," the man of the Ukraine drew into himself with theair of the steppes a love of freedom as unbounded, wild, and vigorousas the steppes themselves. Could he wish to walk after the plough of amaster when his gaze was lost in the fields of God, and not of amaster; when beyond the Cataracts the Saitch called to him, "Leave yourlord, and come to freedom!" when the stern Tartar taught him war,accustomed his eyes to conflagration and slaughter and his hands toweapons? Was it not pleasanter for him to frolic with Hmelnitski and"slay the lords" than to bend his proud back before a land steward?

  Besides this, the people rallied to Hmelnitski, for whoever did notwent into captivity. In Stamboul a prisoner was exchanged for tenarrows, and three for a bow seasoned by the fire,--such was the numberof them! The multitude indeed had no choice; and one song, wonderfulfor that time, has remained, which long afterward succeedinggenerations sang of that leader called a Moses,--"Oh, that the firstbullet might not miss that Hmelnitski!"

  Villages, towns, and hamlets disappeared; the country was turned into adesert and a ruin,--a wound which ages were not able to heal. But thatleader and hetman did not see this, or did not wish to see it; for henever saw anything by reason of himself, and he grew and fattened onblood and fire. In his own monstrous self-love he was destroying hisown people and his own country; and now he brings in thosecommissioners
to Pereyaslav with the thunder of cannon and the tollingof bells, as a separate ruler, as a hospodar, as a prince!

  The commissioners went into the den of the lion hanging their heads,and the remnant of hope was quenched in them. Meanwhile Skshetuski,riding behind the second rank of sleighs, examined carefully the facesof the colonels who had come with Hmelnitski, to find among them Bogun.After fruitless search on the Dniester to a point beyond Yagorlik, theplan had long since matured in the soul of Pan Yan, as the last andonly method, to find Bogun and challenge him to a death-struggle. Theunfortunate knight knew, it is true, that in such a venture Bogun mightdestroy him without a struggle or give him up to the Tartars; but hethought better of Bogun. He was aware of his courage and mad daring,and was almost sure that, having the choice, he would fight for theprincess. Therefore he formed the plan to bind Bogun by an oath that incase of his death he would let Helena go. Of himself Skshetuski did notcare; and supposing that Bogun would say, "If I die, she is neither forme nor for you," he was ready to agree to this and bind himself byoath, if he could only save her from the hands of the enemy. Let herseek peace in the cloister for the rest of her life. He would seek thatpeace first in war, and then if death did not come to him, would seekit under the habit, as did all suffering souls in that age. The wayseemed to Skshetuski straight and clear; and since at Zamost the ideaof a struggle with Bogun had been given, now that his search along thereeds of the Dniester was fruitless, that way seemed the only one. Withthis purpose he hurried from the Dniester in one journey, restingnowhere, hoping to find Bogun without fail either near Hmelnitski or inKieff, especially since, according to what Zagloba had said inYarmolintsi, the chief was to be married in Kieff with three hundredtapers.

  But Skshetuski sought him in vain among the colonels. He found insteadmany old acquaintances of peace times,--such as Daidyalo, whom he hadseen in Chigirin; Yashevski, who had been an envoy from the Saitch tothe Prince; Yarosha, a former sotnik of the prince; Naokolopalyets,Grusha, and many others. He determined then to ask them.

  "We are old acquaintances," said Skshetuski, approaching Yashevski.

  "I knew you in Lubni; you are one of Prince Yeremi's knights. We drankand frolicked together in Lubni. And what is your prince doing?"

  "He is well."

  "In spring he will not be well. He hasn't met Hmelnitski yet; but hewill meet him, and will have to go to destruction alone."

  "As God judges."

  "God is good to our father Hmelnitski. Your prince will never return tohis Tartar bank on the east of the Dnieper. Hmelnitski has many aCossack, and what has your prince? He is a good soldier. And are younot in his service now?"

  "I attend the commissioners."

  "Well, I am glad; you are an old acquaintance."

  "If you are glad, then do me a service, and I shall be thankful."

  "What service?"

  "Tell me where is Bogun, that famous ataman, formerly of the Pereyaslavregiment, who must have a high office among you now."

  "Silence!" answered Yashevski, threateningly. "It is your luck that weare old acquaintances and that I drank with you, otherwise I shouldstretch you on the snow with this whirlbat."

  Skshetuski was astonished; but being a man of ready courage, hesqueezed his baton and asked: "Are you mad?"

  "I am not mad, nor do I wish to threaten you; but there is an orderfrom Hmelnitski that if any of you, even one of the commissioners,should ask a question, to kill him on the spot. If I do not do this,another will; therefore I warn you out of good feeling."

  "But I ask in my own private affair."

  "Well, it is all one. Hmelnitski told us, the colonels, and commandedus to tell others: * 'If any one asks, even about wood for the stove,or ashes, kill him.' You tell this to your people."

  "I thank you for good advice," said Skshetuski.

  "You are the only one; I have warned you alone. I should be the firstto stretch another Pole on the ground."

  They were silent. The party had already reached the gates of the town.Both sides of the road and the street were swarming with the crowd andarmed Cossacks, who out of regard for the presence of Hmelnitski didnot dare to scatter curses and lumps of snow at the sleighs, but wholooked frowningly at the commissioners, clinching their fists orgrasping the hilts of their sabres.

  Skshetuski, having formed his dragoons four deep, raised his head androde haughtily and calmly through the broad street, not paying theleast attention to the threatening looks of the multitude; in his soulhe only thought how much cool blood, self-reliance, and Christianpatience would be necessary for him to carry through what he hadplanned, and not sink at the first step in that sea of hatred.