Complete works of henryk.., p.141
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz, page 141
“Is he such a good horse?” asked Prince Boguslav, with lively interest.
“Is he good? If I were sure your highness would not be offended, I would bet a hundred gold florins without looking, that your highness has not such a one in your stables.”
“Maybe I would bet, if it were not that to-day is not the time for a trial. I will keep him willingly, though; if possible, I would buy. But where is this wonder kept?”
“My men are holding him just here in front of the gate. As to his being a wonder, he is a wonder; for it is no exaggeration to say that the Sultan might covet such a horse. He is not of this country, but from Anatolia; and in Anatolia, as I think, only one such was found.”
“Then let us look at him.”
“I serve your highness.”
Before the gate Kmita’s men were holding two horses completely equipped: one was indeed of high breed, black as a raven, with a star on his forehead, and a white fetlock to a leg like a lance; he neighed slightly at sight of his master.
“I guess that to be the one,” said Boguslav. “I do not know whether he is such a wonder as you say, but in truth he is a fine horse.”
“Try him!” cried Kmita; “or no, I will mount him myself!”
The soldiers gave Kmita the horse; he mounted, and began to ride around near the gate. Under the skilled rider the horse seemed doubly beautiful. His prominent eyes gained brightness as he moved at a trot; he seemed to blow forth inner fire through his nostrils, while the wind unfolded his mane. Pan Kmita described a circle, changed his gait; at last he rode straight on the prince, so that the nostrils of the horse were not a yard from his face, and cried, —
“Halt!”
The horse stopped with his four feet resisting, and stood as if fixed to the ground.
“What do you say?” asked Kmita.
“The eyes and legs of a deer, the gait of a wolf, the nostrils of an elk, and the breast of a woman!” said Boguslav. “Here is all that is needed. Does he understand German command?”
“Yes; for my horse-trainer Zend, who was a Courlander, taught him.”
“And the beast is swift?”
“The wind cannot come up with him; a Tartar cannot escape him.”
“Your trainer must have been a good one, for I see that the horse is highly taught.”
“Is he taught? Your highness will not believe. He goes so in the rank that when the line is moving at a trot, you may let the reins drop and he will not push one half of his nose beyond the line. If your highness will be pleased to try, and if in two furlongs he will push beyond the others half a head, then I will give him as a gift.”
“That would be the greatest wonder, not to advance with dropped reins.”
“It is wonderful and convenient, for both hands of the rider are free. More than once have I had a sabre in one hand and a pistol in the other, and the horse went alone.”
“But if the rank turns?”
“Then he will turn too without breaking the line.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed the prince; “no horse will do that. I have seen in France horses of the king’s musketeers, greatly trained, of purpose not to spoil the court ceremonies, but still it was necessary to guide them with reins.”
“The wit of man is in this horse. Let your highness try him yourself.”
“Give him here!” said the prince, after a moment’s thought.
Kmita held the horse till Boguslav mounted. He sprang lightly into the saddle, and began to pat the steed on his shining neck.
“A wonderful thing,” said he; “the best horses shed their hair in the autumn, but this one is as if he had come out of water. In what direction shall we go?”
“Let us move in a line, and if your highness permits, toward the forest. The road is even and broad, but in the direction of the town some wagon might come in the way.”
“Let us ride toward the forest.”
“Just two furlongs. Let your highness drop the reins and start on a gallop. Two men on each side, and I will ride a little behind.”
“Take your places!” said the prince.
The line was formed; they turned the horses’ heads from the town. The prince was in the middle.
“Forward!” said he. “On a gallop from the start, — march!”
The line shot on, and after a certain time was moving like a whirlwind. A cloud of dust hid them from the eyes of the attendants and equerries, who, collecting in a crowd at the gate, looked with curiosity at the racing. The trained horses going at the highest speed, snorting from effort, had run already a furlong or more; and the prince’s steed, though not held by the reins, did not push forward an inch. They ran another furlong. Kmita turned, and seeing behind only a cloud of dust, through which the starosta’s house could barely be seen, and the people standing before it not at all, cried with a terrible voice, —
“Take him!”
At this moment Biloüs and the gigantic Zavratynski seized both arms of the prince, and squeezed them till the bones cracked in their joints, and holding him in their iron fists, put spurs to their own horses.
The prince’s horse in the middle held the line, neither pushing ahead nor holding back an inch. Astonishment, fright, the whirlwind beating in his face, deprived Prince Boguslav of speech for the first moment. He struggled once and a second time, — without result, however, for pain from his twisted arms pierced him through.
“What is this, ruffians? Know ye not who I am?” cried he at last.
Thereupon Kmita pushed him with the barrel of the pistol between the shoulders. “Resistance is useless; it will only bring a bullet in your body!” cried he.
“Traitor!” said the prince.
“But who are you?” asked Kmita.
And they galloped on farther.
CHAPTER XXVII.
They ran long through the pine-forest with such speed that the trees by the roadside seemed to flee backward in panic; inns, huts of forest guards, pitch-clearings, flashed by, and at times wagons singly or a few together, going to Pilvishki. From time to time Boguslav bent forward in the saddle as if to struggle; but his arms were only wrenched the more painfully in the iron hands of the soldiers, while Pan Andrei held the pistol-barrel between the princess shoulders again, and they rushed on till the white foam was falling in flakes from the horses.
At last they were forced to slacken the speed, for breath failed both men and beasts, and Pilvishki was so far behind that all possibility of pursuit had ceased. They rode on then a certain time at a walk and in silence, surrounded by a cloud of steam, which was issuing from the horses.
For a long time the prince said nothing; he was evidently trying to calm himself and cool his blood. When he had done this he asked, —
“Whither are you taking me?”
“Your highness will know that at the end of the road,” answered Kmita.
Boguslav was silent, but after a while said, “Cavalier, command these trash to let me go, for they are pulling out my arms. If you command them to do so, they will only hang; if not, they will go to the stake.”
“They are nobles, not trash,” answered Kmita; “and as to the punishment which your highness threatens, it is not known whom death will strike first.”
“Know ye on whom ye have raised hands?” asked the prince, turning to the soldiers.
“We know,” answered they.
“By a million horned devils!” cried Boguslav, with an outburst. “Will you command these people to let me go, or not?”
“Your highness, I will order them to bind your arms behind your back; then you will be quieter.”
“Impossible! You will put my arms quite out of joint.”
“I would give orders to let another off on his word that he would not try to escape, but you know how to break your word,” said Kmita.
“I will give another word,” answered the prince,— “that not only will I escape at the first opportunity, but I will have you torn apart with horses, when you fall into my hands.”
“What God wants to give, he gives!” said Kmita. “But I prefer a sincere threat to a lying promise. Let go his hands, only hold his horse by the bridle; but, your highness, look here! I have but to touch the trigger to put a bullet into your body, and I shall not miss, for I never miss. Sit quietly; do not try to escape.”
“I do not care, Cavalier, for you or your pistol.”
When he had said this, the prince stretched his aching arms, to straighten them and shake off the numbness. The soldiers caught the horse’s bridle on both sides, and led him on.
After a while Boguslav said, “Yon dare not look me in the eyes, Pan Kmita; you hide in the rear.”
“Indeed!” answered Kmita; and urging forward his horse, he pushed Zavratynski away, and seizing the reins of the prince’s horse, he looked Boguslav straight in the face. “And how is my horse? Have I added even one virtue?”
“A good horse!” answered the prince. “If you wish, I will buy him.”
“This horse deserves a better fate than to carry a traitor till his death.”
“You are a fool, Pan Kmita.”
“Yes, for I believed the Radzivills.”
Again came a moment of silence, which was broken by the prince.
“Tell me, Pan Kmita, are you sure that you are in your right mind, that your reason has not left you? Have you asked yourself what you have done, madman? Has it not come to your head that as things are now it would have been better for you if your mother had not given you birth, and that no one, not only in Poland, but in all Europe, would have ventured on such a dare-devil deed?”
“Then it is clear that there is no great courage in that Europe, for I have carried off your highness, hold you, and will not let you go.”
“It can only be an affair with a madman,” said the prince, as if to himself.
“My gracious prince,” answered Pan Andrei, “you are in my hands; be reconciled to that, and waste not words in vain. Pursuit will not come up, for your men think to this moment that you have come off with me voluntarily. When my men took you by the arms no one saw it, for the dust covered us; and even if there were no dust, neither the equerries nor the guards could have seen, it was so far. They will wait for you two hours; the third hour they will be impatient, the fourth and fifth uneasy, and the sixth will send out men in search; but we meanwhile shall be beyond Maryapole.”
“What of that?”
“This, that they will not pursue; and even if they should start immediately in pursuit, your horses are just from the road, while ours are fresh. Even if by some miracle they should come up, that would not save you, for, as truly as you see me here, I should open your head, — which I shall do if nothing else is possible. This is the position! Radzivill has a court, an army, cannon, dragoons; Kmita has six men, and Kmita holds Radzivill by the neck.”
“What further?” asked the prince.
“Nothing further! We will go where it pleases me. Thank God, your highness, that you are alive; for were it not that I gave orders to throw many gallons of water on my head to-day, you would be in the other world already, that is, in hell, for two reasons, — as a traitor and as a Calvinist.”
“And would you have dared to do that?”
“Without praising myself I say that your highness would not easily find an undertaking on which I would not venture; you have the best proof of that in yourself.”
The prince looked carefully at the young man and said, “Cavalier, the devil has written on your face that you are ready for anything, and that is the reason why I have a proof in myself. I tell you, indeed, that you have been able to astonish me with your boldness, and that is no easy thing.”
“That’s all one to me. Give thanks to God, your highness, that you are alive yet, and quits.”
“No, Cavalier. First of all, do you thank God; for if one hair had fallen from my head, then know that the Radzivills would find you even under the earth. If you think that because there is disunion between us and those of Nyesvyej and Olyta, and that they will not pursue you, you are mistaken. Radzivill blood must be avenged, an awful example must be given, otherwise there would be no life for us in this Commonwealth. You cannot hide abroad, either: the Emperor of Germany will give you up, for I am a prince of the German Empire; the Elector of Brandenburg is my uncle; the Prince of Orange is his brother-in-law; the King and Queen of France and their ministers are my friends. Where will you hide? The Turks and Tartars will sell you, though we had to give them half our fortune. You will not find on earth a corner, nor such deserts, nor such people—”
“It is a wonder to me,” replied Kmita, “that your highness takes such thought in advance for my safety. A great person a Radzivill! Still I have only to touch a trigger.”
“I do not deny that. More than once it has happened in the world that a great man died at the hands of a common one. A camp-follower killed Pompey; French kings perished at the hands of low people. Without going farther, the same thing happened to my great father. But I ask you what will come next?”
“What is that to me? I have never taken much thought of what will be to-morrow. If it comes to close quarters with all the Radzivills, God knows who will be warmed up best. The sword has been long hanging over my head, but the moment I close my eyes I sleep as sweetly as a suslik. And if one Radzivill is not enough for me, I will carry off a second, and a third.”
“As God is dear to me, Cavalier, you please me much; for I repeat that you alone in Europe could dare a deed like this. The beast does not care, nor mind what will come to-morrow. I love daring people, and there are fewer and fewer of them in the world. Just think! he has carried off a Radzivill and holds him as his own. Where were you reared in this fashion, Cavalier? Whence do you come?”
“I am banneret of Orsha.”
“Pan Banneret of Orsha, I grieve that the Radzivills are losing a man like you, for with such men much might be done. If it were not a question of myself — h’m! I would spare nothing to win you.”
“Too late!” said Kmita.
“That is to be understood,” answered the prince. “Much too late! But I tell you beforehand that I will order you only to be shot, for you are worthy to die a soldier’s death. What an incarnate devil to carry me off from the midst of my men!”
Kmita made no answer; the prince meditated awhile, then cried, —
“If you free me at once, I will not take vengeance. Only give me your word that you will tell no one of this, and command your men to be silent.”
“Impossible!” replied Kmita.
“Do you want a ransom?”
“I do not.”
“What the devil, then, did you carry me off for? I cannot understand it.”
“It would take a long time to tell. I will tell your highness later.”
“But what have we to do on the road unless to talk? Acknowledge, Cavalier, one thing: you carried me off in a moment of anger and desperation, and now you don’t know well what to do with me.”
“That is my affair!” answered Kmita; “and if I do not know what to do, it will soon be seen.”
Impatience was depicted on Prince Boguslav’s face.
“You are not over-communicative, Pan Banneret of Orsha; but answer me one question at least sincerely: Did you come to me, to Podlyasye, with a plan already formed of attacking my person, or did it enter your head in the last moment?”
“To that I can answer your highness sincerely, for my lips are burning to tell you why I left your cause; and while I am alive, while there is breath in my body, I shall not return to it. The prince voevoda of Vilna deceived me, and in advance brought me to swear on the crucifix that I would not leave him till death.”
“And you are keeping the oath well. There is nothing to be said on that point.”
“True!” cried Kmita, violently. “If I have lost my soul, if I must be damned, it is through the Radzivills. But I give myself to the mercy of God, and I would rather lose my soul, I would rather burn eternally, than to sin longer with knowledge and willingly, — than to serve longer, knowing that I serve sin and treason. May God have mercy on me! I prefer to burn, I prefer a hundred times to burn; I should burn surely, if I remained with you. I have nothing to lose; but at least I shall say at the judgment of God: ‘I knew not what I was swearing, and had I discovered that I had sworn treason to the country, destruction to the Polish name, I should have broken the oath right there.’ Now let the Lord God be my judge.”
“To the question, to the question!” said Boguslav, calmly.
But Pan Andrei breathed heavily, and rode on some time in silence, with frowning brow and eyes fixed on the earth, like a man bowed down by misfortune.
“To the question!” repeated the prince.
Kmita roused himself as if from a dream, shook his head, and said, —
“I believed the prince hetman as I would not have believed my own father. I remember that banquet at which he announced his union with the Swedes. What I suffered then, what I passed through, God will account to me. Others, honorable men, threw their batons at his feet and remained with their country; but I stood like a stump with the baton, with shame, with submission, with infamy, in torture, for I was called traitor to my eyes. And who called me traitor? Oi, better not say, lest I forget myself, go mad, and put a bullet right here in the head of your highness. You are the men, you the traitors, the Judases, who brought me to that.”
Here Kmita gazed with a terrible expression on the prince, and hatred came out on his face from the bottom of his soul, like a dragon which had crawled out of a cave to the light of day; but Boguslav looked at the young man with a calm, fearless eye. At last he said, —
“But that interests me, Pan Kmita; speak on.”
Kmita dropped the bridle of the prince’s horse, and removed his cap as if wishing to cool his burning head.
“That same night,” continued he, “I went to the hetman, for he gave command to call me. I thought to myself, ‘I will renounce his service, break my oath, suffocate him, choke him with these hands, blow up Kyedani with powder, and then let happen what may.’ He knew too that was ready for anything, knew what I was; I saw well that he was fingering a box in which there were pistols. ‘That is nothing,’ thought I to myself; ‘either he will miss me or he will kill me.’ But he began to reason, to speak, to show such a prospect to me, simpleton, and put himself forward as such a savior, that your highness knows what happened.”
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