CHAPTER LXII.
In the drawing-room of the Court at Toporoff sat three magnates oneevening in secret consultation. A number of bright lights were burningon a table covered with maps of the surrounding country; near them laya tall cap with a dark plume, a field-glass, and a sword with hilt setin pearls, on which was thrown a handkerchief embroidered with a crown,and a pair of elk-skin gloves. Near the table, in a high-armed chair,sat a man about forty years of age, rather small and slender, butpowerfully built. He had a swarthy, sallow, wearied face, black eyes,and a Swedish wig of the same color, with long locks falling on hisneck and shoulders; a thin black mustache, trimmed upward at the ends,adorned his upper lip. His lower lip with his beard protruded strongly,giving his whole physiognomy a characteristic mark of pride andstubbornness. It was not a beautiful face, but unusually lofty. Asensuous expression, indicating an inclination to pleasure, wascombined in it with a certain sleepy torpor and coldness. The eyes wereas if smouldering; but it was easy to guess that in a moment ofexaltation, joy, or anger they could cast lightnings which not everyeye might meet. At the same time kindness and affability were depictedon his countenance.
The black dress, composed of a satin doublet with lace ruffles, fromunder which a gold chain was visible, increased the distinction of thisuncommon figure. On the whole, in spite of sadness and anxiety evidentin the face and form, there was something majestic in them. In fact itwas the king himself, Yan Kazimir Vaza, who had succeeded his brotherVladislav somewhat less than a year before.
A little behind him, in the half-shade, sat Hieronim Radzeyovski, thestarosta of Lomjin, a thick, corpulent, low-set, red-visaged man withthe unblushing face of a courtier; and opposite him, at the table, athird personage, leaning on his elbow, looking at the maps representingthe country around, raising from time to time his eyes to the king. Hisface had less majesty, but almost more official distinction, than thatof the king. The cool and reasoning face of the statesman was furrowedwith cares and thought, the severity of which had not marred hisunusual beauty. He had penetrating blue eyes; his complexion wasdelicate, in spite of his age; a magnificent Polish dress, a beardtrimmed in Swedish fashion, and the lofty tuft above his forehead,added still something of senatorial dignity to his features, regular asif chiselled from stone.
This was Yerzy Ossolinski, chancellor of the Crown, a prince of theRoman Empire, an orator, and a diplomat admired by the courts ofEurope,--the famous opponent of Yeremi Vishnyevetski.
His unusual abilities turned upon him early in life the attention ofpreceding reigns, and soon raised him to the highest offices, in virtueof which he guided the ship of state, at the present moment near itsfinal wreck.
But still the chancellor was as if created to be the helmsman of such aship. Laborious, enduring, wise, looking to the distant future,calculating for long years, he would have directed any other State butthe Commonwealth to a safe harbor with a sure and steady hand; forevery other State he would have secured internal power and long yearsof strength,--if he had only been the absolute minister of such amonarch, for example, as the King of France or Spain.
Reared beyond the boundaries of his own country, furnished with foreignmodels, in spite of all his innate quickness of mind, in spite of longyears of practice, he was unable to accustom himself to thehelplessness of government in the Commonwealth; and all his life hecould not learn to reckon with it, though that was the rock on whichall his plans, designs, and efforts were wrecked, though by reason ofthis he saw now in the future a precipice and ruin, and later died withdespair in his heart.
He was a genial theorist who did not know how to be genial in practice,and he fell into a circle of errors without issue. Possessing an ideawhich might give fruit in the future, he went to the realization of itwith the stubbornness of a fanatic, not observing that that idea,saving in theory, might, in view of the actual condition of affairs,bring terrible disasters.
Wishing to strengthen the government and the State, he let loose theterrible Cossack element, not foreseeing that the storm would turn notonly against the nobles, the great estates of the magnates, the abuses,license of the nobility, but against the most vital interests of theState itself.
YERZY OSSOLINSKI, CHANCELLOR OF POLAND.]
_From an engraving by Moncornet_.
Hmelnitski rose out of the steppes and grew into a giant. On theCommonwealth fell the defeats of Joltiya Vodi, Korsun, Pilavtsi. At thefirst step this Hmelnitski joined with the enemy, the Crimean power.Thunderbolt followed thunderbolt; there remained only war and war. Theterrible element should have been crushed first of all, so as to use itin the future; but the chancellor, occupied with his idea, was stillnegotiating and delaying, and still believed even Hmelnitski.
The power of events crushed his theories; it became clearer every daythat the results of the chancellor's efforts were directly opposed tohis expectations, till at last came Zbaraj and confirmed it mostconvincingly.
The chancellor was staggering under the burden of regrets, bitterness,and universal hatred. He did that therefore which in times of failureand disaster people do whose faith in themselves is greater than alldisasters,--he looked for the guilty.
The whole Commonwealth was to blame, and all the estates,--the past,and the aristocratic structure of the State; but he who fearing lest arock lying on the incline of a mountain might fall to the bottom,wishes to roll it to the top without calculating the necessary force todo this, only hastens its fall. The chancellor did more and worse, forhe called in the rushing and terrible Cossack torrent, not consideringthat its force could only wash out and carry off the foundation onwhich the rock was resting.
When he sought then for persons to blame, all eyes were turned uponhimself as the cause of the war, the calamities and misfortune. But theking believed in him yet, and believed in him the more because thevoice of all without sparing his Majesty accused him in an equal degreewith the chancellor.
The king sat therefore in Toporoff suffering and sad, not knowing wellwhat to do, for he had only twenty-five thousand troops. The conscriptwrits had been sent out too late, and barely a part of the generalmilitia had assembled up to that time. Who was the cause of this delay,and was it not one more mistake of that stubborn policy of thechancellor?--the mystery was lost between the king and the minister; itis enough that both felt disarmed at that moment before the power ofHmelnitski.
What was more important yet, they had no accurate informationconcerning him. In the camp of the king it was still unknown whetherthe Khan with all his forces was with Hmelnitski, or only Tugai Bey anda few thousands of the horde were accompanying the Cossacks. This was amatter as important as life or death. With Hmelnitski himself the kingmight in extremities try his fortune, though the rebellious hetmandisposed of ten times greater power. The magic of the king's name meantmuch for the Cossacks,--more perhaps than the crowds of the generalmilitia of unformed and untrained nobles; but if the Khan were present,it was an impossibility to meet such superior force.
Meanwhile there were the most varied reports on this head, and no oneknew anything accurately. The careful Hmelnitski had concentrated hisforces; he had not let out a single party of Cossacks or Tartars onpurpose, that the king might not capture an informant. The rebellioushetman had another plan,--it was to shut in with a part of his forcesZbaraj, already dying, and appear himself unexpectedly with the wholeTartar and remaining Cossack force before the king, surround him andhis army, and deliver him into the hands of the Khan.
It was not without reason then that a cloud covered the royal face, forthere is no greater pain for a king than a feeling of weakness. YanKazimir leaned impotently on the back of the chair, threw his hands onthe table and said, pointing to the maps,--
"These are useless. Get me informants."
"There is nothing I wish for more," answered Ossolinski.
"Have the scouts returned?"
"They have returned, but brought no one."
"Not a single prisoner?"
"Only neighboring peasants who know nothing."
"But Pan Pelka, has he returned? He is a splendid partisan."
"Your Majesty," said the starosta of Lomjin, from behind the chair."Pan Pelka has not returned, and he will not, for he is killed."
A moment of silence followed. The king fixed his gloomy look on theflickering light, and began to drum with his fingers on the table."Have you no help?" asked he at length.
"Wait!" said the chancellor, with importance.
The forehead of Yan Kazimir was covered with wrinkles, "Wait?" repeatedhe; "and Vishnyevetski and the commanders will be in worse conditionunder Zbaraj."
"They will hold out awhile yet," said Radzeyovski, carelessly.
"You might be silent if you have nothing good to offer," said the king.
"I have my own counsel, your Majesty."
"What is it?"
"To send some one as if to negotiate with Hmelnitski at Zbaraj. Theenvoy will discover whether the Khan is there in his own person, andwill report when he returns."
"Impossible!" said the king. "Now when we have proclaimed him a rebeland laid a price on his head, have given the baton of the Zaporojiansto Zabuski, it is not becoming our dignity to enter into negotiationswith him."
"Then send to the Khan," said the starosta.
The king turned an inquiring glance on the chancellor, who raised uponhim his blue, severe eye, and after a moment's thought answered: "Thecounsel would be good were it not that Hmelnitski, beyond a doubt,would detain the envoy, and for this reason it would serve no purpose."
Yan Kazimir waved his hand. "I see," said he, slowly, "that you have noplan; then I will tell you mine. I will order to horse, and move withthe whole army to Zbaraj. Let the will of God be done! There we shalldiscover whether the Khan is present or not."
The chancellor knew the daring of the king, restrainable by nothing,and he doubted not that he was ready to do this. On the other hand heknew from experience that when the king had something in view and wasopposed in the undertaking, no dissuasion was of avail. Therefore hedid not oppose him at once, he even praised the idea; but he dissuadedfrom haste, explained to the king that it could be done to-morrow orthe day after. In the mean while favorable news might come. Every daywould increase the dissension of the rabble, weakened by disasters atZbaraj and by the news of his Majesty's approach. The rebellion mightdissolve from the presence of the king, as snow from the rays of thesun, but time was necessary.
"The king bears within himself the salvation of the whole Commonwealth,and responsibility before God and posterity. He should not exposehimself, especially since, in case of misfortune, the forces at Zbarajwould be lost beyond redemption."
"Do what you like, if I only have an informant tomorrow."
Again a moment of silence. An enormous golden moon shone in through thewindow; but it was darker in the room, for the tapers needed trimming.
"What o'clock?" asked the king.
"Almost midnight," answered Radzeyovski.
"I will not sleep to-night. I will go around the camp, and do you gowith me. Where are Ubald and Artsishevski?"
"In the camp. I will go and order the horses," answered the starosta.
He approached the door. At that moment there was some movement in theantechamber; a lively conversation was audible, the sound of hurriedsteps; then the doors opened half-way, and Tyzenhauz, the personalattendant of the king, rushed in panting.
"Your Majesty," cried he, "an officer has come from Zbaraj!"
The king sprang from his chair; the chancellor rose too, and from themouths of both came the cry: "Impossible!"
"Yes, he is standing in the antechamber."
"Bring him here!" cried the king, clapping his hands. "Let him end ouranxiety. This way with him, in the name of the Most Holy Mother!"
Tyzenhauz vanished through the door, and after a moment there appearedinstead of him some tall, unknown form.
"Nearer!" cried the king, "nearer! We are glad to see you."
The officer pushed up to the table; and at sight of him, the king, thechancellor, and the starosta of Lomjin drew back in astonishment.Before them stood a kind of frightful-looking man, or rather anapparition. Rags torn to shreds barely covered his emaciated body; hisface was blue, covered with mud and blood, his eyes burning withfeverish light; his black tangled beard fell toward his breast; theodor of corpses went forth from him round about, and his legs trembledto such a degree that he was forced to lean on the table.
The king and the two dignitaries looked on him with staring eyes. Atthat moment the doors opened and a crowd of dignitaries, military andcivil, came in; and among them, the generals Ubald and Artsishevski,with Sapieha, vice-chancellor of Lithuania. All stood behind the king,looking at the newly arrived.
The king asked: "Who are you?"
"Before them stood a kind of frightful-looking man, orrather an apparition."]
Copyright, 1898, by Little, Brown, and Company.
The miserable-looking man tried to speak, but a spasm seized hisjaw; his beard began to tremble, and he was able only to whisper:"From--Zbaraj!"
"Give him wine!" said a voice.
In the twinkle of an eye a goblet was filled; he drank it withdifficulty. By this time the chancellor had taken off his own cloak andcovered the man's shoulders with it.
"Can you speak now?" inquired the king after a time.
"I can," he answered, with a voice of more confidence.
"Who are you?"
"Yan Skshetuski, colonel of hussars."
"In whose service?"
"The voevoda of Rus."
A murmur spread through the hall.
"What news have you, what news have you?" asked the king, feverishly.
"Suffering--hunger--the grave--"
The king covered his eyes. "Jesus of Nazareth! Jesus of Nazareth!" saidhe in a low voice. After a while he asked again: "Can you hold outlong?"
"There is lack of powder. The enemy is on the ramparts."
"In force?"
"Hmelnitski--the Khan with all his hordes."
"Is the Khan there?"
"He is."
Deep silence followed. Those present looked at one another; uncertaintywas on every face.
"How could you hold out?" asked the chancellor, with an accent ofdoubt.
At these words Skshetuski raised his head, as if new power entered him.A flash of pride passed over his face, and he answered with a voicestrong beyond expectation: "Twenty assaults repulsed, sixteen battlesin the field won, seventy-five sallies."
Again silence followed.
Then the king straightened himself, shook his wig as a lion would hismane, on his sallow face came out a blush, and his eyes flashed. "AsGod lives!" cried he, "I've enough of these councils, of this halting,of this delay! Whether the Khan is there or not, whether the generalmilitia has come or not, I have enough of this! We will move to-day onZbaraj."
"To Zbaraj! to Zbaraj!" was repeated by a number of powerful voices.
The face of the newly arrived brightened like the dawn. "Your Majesty,we will live and die with you."
At these words the noble heart of the king grew soft as wax, andwithout regarding the repulsive appearance of the knight, he pressedhis head with his hands and said: "You are dearer to me than others insatin. By the Most Holy Mother, men for less service are rewarded withstarostaships. But what you have done will not pass unrewarded. I amyour debtor."
Others began immediately to call out after the king: "There has been nogreater knight!" "He is the first among the men of Zbaraj!" "You havewon immortal glory!"
"And how did you push through the Cossacks and Tartars?"
"I hid in the swamp, the reeds, went through the woods--got astray--atenothing--"
"Give him to eat!" cried the king.
"To eat!" repeated others.
"Clothe him!"
"They will give you horses and clothing to-morrow," said the kingagain. "You shall want for nothing."
All, follow
ing the king, surpassed one another in praises of theknight. Then they began again to hurl questions at him, to which heanswered with the greatest difficulty, for growing weakness had seizedhim; he was barely half-conscious. Meanwhile they brought himrefreshments; and at the same time entered the priest Tsetsishovski,the chaplain of the king.
The dignitaries made way for him, for he was a very learned man, andrespected. His word had almost more weight with the king than that ofthe chancellor, and from the pulpit he gave utterance to words such asfew would dare to say at the Diet. The priest was surrounded then, andthey began to tell him that an officer had come from Zbaraj; that theprince was there, though in hunger and wretchedness, and was stillbeating the Khan, who was present in his own person, as well asHmelnitski, who during the whole past year had not lost so many men asat Zbaraj; finally, that the king was going to move to his succor, evenif he had to lose his whole army.
The priest listened in silence, moving his lips and looking everymoment at the emaciated knight, who was eating at the time, for theking had commanded him not to mind his presence; and he even waited onhim himself, and from time to time drank to him from a little silvergoblet.
"What is the name of this knight?" asked the priest at last.
"Skshetuski."
"Yan?"
"Yes."
"Colonel with the voevoda of Rus?"
"Yes."
The priest raised his wrinkled face, prayed again, and said: "Let uspraise the name of the Lord, for undiscoverable are the ways by whichhe brings a man to happiness and peace. Amen! I know this officer."
Skshetuski heard, and involuntarily turned his eyes to the face of thepriest; but his face, form, and voice were completely unknown to him.
"You are the man out of the whole army who undertook to pass throughthe enemy's camp?" asked the priest.
"A worthy man tried before me, but he perished."
"The greater is your service, since after him you dared. I see by yoursuffering that the road must have been an awful one. God looked on yoursacrifice, on your virtue, on your youth, and he led you through."
Suddenly the priest turned to Yan Kazimir. "Your gracious Majesty,"said he, "it is then your unchangeable decision to march to the rescueof the voevoda of Rus?"
"To your prayers, father," answered the king, "I commit the country,the army, and myself, for I know it is an awful undertaking. But Icannot permit that the prince should perish behind those unfortunateramparts, with such knights as this officer."
"God send down victory!" cried a number of voices.
The priest raised his hands to heaven, and silence followed in thehall. "I bless you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."
"Amen!" said the king.
"Amen!" repeated all the voices.
Peace was spread over the face of Yan Kazimir after his previoussuffering; but his eyes shot forth unusual gleams. Among all assembledrose the buzz of conversation about the impending campaign, for it wasmuch doubted yet whether the king could move at once. He took hissword, however, from the table, and nodded to Tyzenhauz to gird him.
"When does your Majesty think of marching?" asked the chancellor.
"God has granted a pleasant night," said the king; "the horses will notbe heated. Commander of the camp," he added, turning to thedignitaries, "order the march to be sounded!"
The commander of the camp left the room at once. Ossolinski, thechancellor, said with quiet dignity that all were not ready; that theycould not move the wagons before day. But the king answeredimmediately: "Let that man remain to whom the wagons are dearer thanthe country."
The hall grew empty. Each man hastened to his standard, put everythingin order, and prepared for the march. Only the king, the chancellor,the priest, with Skshetuski and Tyzenhauz, remained in the room.
"Gentlemen," said the priest, "you have learned already from thisofficer what you had to learn. He should now get rest, for he is barelyable to stand on his feet. Allow me, your Majesty, to take him to myquarters for the night!"
"All right, father," replied the king. "Your demand is just. LetTyzenhauz and some one else conduct him, for surely he cannot walkalone. Go, go, dear friend," said he; "no one has earned his restbetter than you. And remember that I am your debtor; henceforth I shallforget myself rather than you."
Tyzenhauz caught Skshetuski under the arm and they passed into theantechamber. They met Sapieha, who supported the tottering knight onthe other side. The priest went in advance, before him a boy with alantern; but the boy carried it to no purpose, for the night was clear,calm, and warm. The great golden moon sailed over Toporoff like a boat.From the square of the camp came the bustle of men, the creaking ofwagons, the noise of trumpets sounding the tattoo. At some distance, infront of the church lighted by the gleams of the moon, were alreadyvisible crowds of soldiers, infantry and cavalry. Horses were neighingin the village. To the creaking of wagons was joined the clatter ofchains and the dull thump of cannon. The uproar increased every moment.
"They are moving already!" said the priest.
"On Zbaraj--to the rescue--" whispered Pan Yan. And whether from joy orfrom the toils he had endured, or from both together, he grew so weakthat Tyzenhauz and the starosta were obliged almost to drag him along.
When they were turning to the priests' house they went among thesoldiers standing in front of the building. These were the cavalry ofSapieha and the infantry of Artsishevski. Not in rank yet for themarch, they stood without order, crowded in places and hindering thepassage.
"Out of the road, out of the road!" cried the priest.
"Who wants the road?"
"An officer from Zbaraj--"
"With the forehead to him! with the forehead to him!" cried manyvoices.
A way was opened at once; but some crowded the more to see the hero.They looked with astonishment on that suffering, on that terrible face,lighted by the gleam of the moon, and they whispered in wonder: "FromZbaraj! from Zbaraj!"
The priest brought Skshetuski to the house with the greatestdifficulty. After he had been bathed and washed from the mud and blood,he had him put in the bed of the priest of the place, and went outhimself at once to the army, which was moving to the march.
Skshetuski was half conscious. Fever did not let him sleep immediately;he knew not where he was, or what had happened. He heard only thenoise,--the tramp, the rumble of wagons, the thundering tread ofinfantry, the shouts of soldiers, then the blare of trumpets; and allthis was mingled in his ears in one enormous sound. "The army ismoving," he muttered. That sound began to retreat, to weaken, tovanish, to melt, till at last silence embraced Toporoff. Then it seemedto Skshetuski that together with the bed he was flying into somebottomless abyss.