Fire in the Steppe (25 page)

"For God's sake! Basia!" cried the knight. And wishing to restrain her emotion, he seized her in his embrace, and she nestled up to his breast with all her strength, so that he felt her heart throbbing like a wearied bird; then he embraced her still more firmly, and they remained so.

Silence followed.

"Basia, do you wish me?" asked the little knight.

"I do, I do, I do!" answered Basia.

At this answer transport seized him in turn; he pressed his lips to her rosy lips, and again they remained so.

Meanwhile a carriage rattled up to the house, and Zagloba rushed into the ante-room, then to the dining-room, in which Pan Makovetski was sitting with his wife. "There is no sign of Michael!" cried he, in one breath; "I looked everywhere. Pan Krytski said that he saw him with Ketling. Surely they have fought!"

"Michael is here," answered Pani Makovetski; "he brought Ketling and gave him Krysia."

The pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was turned had surely a less astonished face than Zagloba at that moment. Silence continued for a while; then the old noble rubbed his eyes and asked, "What?"

"Krysia and Ketling are sitting in there together, and Michael has gone to pray," said Makovetski.

Zagloba entered the next room without a moment's hesitation; and though he knew of all, he was astonished a second time, seeing Ketling and Krysia sitting forehead to forehead. They sprang up, greatly confused, and had not a word to say, especially as the Makovetskis came in after Zagloba.

"A lifetime would not suffice to thank Michael," said Ketling, at last. "Our happiness is his work."

"God give you happiness!" said Makovetski. "We will not oppose Michael."

Krysia dropped into the embraces of Pani Makovetski, and the two began to cry. Zagloba was as if stunned. Ketling bowed to Makovetski's knees as to those of a father; and either from the onrush of thoughts, or from confusion, Makovetski said, "But Pan Deyma killed Pan Ubysh. Thank Michael, not me!" After a while he asked, "Wife, what was the name of that lady?"

But she had no time for an answer, for at that moment Basia rushed in, panting more than usual, more rosy than usual, with her forelock falling down over her eyes more than usual; she ran up to Ketling and Krysia, and thrusting her finger now into the eye of one, and now into the eye of the other, said, "Oh, sigh, love, marry! You think that Pan Michael will be alone in the world? Not a bit of it; I shall be with him, for I love him, and I have told him so. I was the first to tell him, and he asked if I wanted him, and I told him that I would rather have him than ten others; for I love him, and I'll be the best wife, and I will never leave him! I'll go to the war with him! I've loved him this long time, though I did not tell him, for he is the best and the worthiest, the beloved— And now marry for yourselves, and I will take Pan Michael, to-morrow, if need be—for—"

Here breath failed Basia.

All looked at her, not understanding whether she had gone mad or was telling the truth; then they looked at one another, and with that Pan Michael appeared in the door behind Basia.

"Michael," asked Makovetski, when presence of mind had restored his voice to him, "is what we hear true?"

"God has wrought a miracle," answered the little knight, with great seriousness, "and here is my comfort, my love, my greatest treasure."

After these words Basia sprang to him again like a deer.

Now the mask of astonishment fell from Zagloba's face, and his white beard began to quiver; he opened his arms widely and said, "God knows I shall sob! Haiduk and Michael, come hither!"

He loved her immensely; and she loved him in the same way. They were happy together, but had no children, though it was the fourth year of their marriage. Their lands were managed with great diligence. Pan Michael bought with his own and Basia's money a number of villages near Kamenyets; for these he paid a small price, since timid people in terror of Turkish invasion were glad to sell land in those regions. On his estates he introduced order and military discipline; he took the restless population in hand, rebuilt burned villages, established "fortalices,"—that is, fortified houses,—in which he placed temporary garrisons; in one word, as formerly he had defended the country with success, so now he worked his lands with good profit, never letting the sword out of his hand.

The glory of his name was the best defence of his property. With some of the murzas he poured water on his sword and concluded brotherhood; others he subdued. Bands of disorderly Cossacks, scattered detachments of the horde, robbers from the steppes, highwaymen from the plains of Bessarabia, trembled at thought of the "Little Falcon;" therefore his herds of horses and flocks of sheep, his buffaloes and camels, lived without danger on the steppes. The enemy even respected his neighbors. His substance increased through the aid of his active wife. He was surrounded by the honor and affection of people. His native land had adorned him with office; the hetman loved him; the Pasha of Hotin clicked with his tongue in wonder at him; in the distant Crimea, in Bagchesarai, his name was repeated with honor. His land, war, and love were the three elements of his life.

The hot summer of 1671 found Pan Michael in Sokol, in Basia's paternal villages. That Sokol was the pearl of their estates. They entertained there ceremoniously and merrily Pan Zagloba, who, disregarding the toils of a journey unusual at his age, came to visit them, fulfilling his solemn promise given at their wedding. But the noisy feasts and the joy of the hosts at seeing a dear guest was soon interrupted by an order from the hetman directing Pan Michael to take command at Hreptyoff, to watch the Moldavian boundary, to listen to voices from the side of the desert, protect the place, intercept Tartar parties, and clear the region of robbers.

The little knight, as a soldier ever willing in the service of the Commonwealth, gave orders at once to his servants to drive the herds from the meadows, lade the camels, and be ready themselves in arms. Still, his heart was rent at thought of parting with his wife, for he loved her with the love of a husband and a father, and was hardly able to breathe without her; but he had no wish to take her to the wild and lonely deserts of Ushytsa and expose her to various perils. She, however, insisted on going with him.

"Think," said she, "whether it will be more dangerous for me to stay here than to live with you under the protection of troops. I do not wish another roof than your tent, since I married you to share fatigue, toil, and danger with you. Here alarm would gnaw me to death; but there, with such a soldier, I shall feel safer than the queen in Warsaw. Should it be needful to take the field with you, I shall take it. If you go alone, I shall not know sleep in this place; I shall not put food to my mouth; and finally, I shall not hold out, but fly as I am to Hreptyoff; and if you will not let me in, I will spend the night at the gate, and beg and cry till you take pity."

Pan Michael, seeing such affection, seized his wife by the arms and began to cover her rosy face with kisses, and she gave like for like. "I should not hesitate," said he, at last, "were it a question of standing on guard simply and attacking detachments of the horde. Really, there will be men enough, because one of the squadrons of the starosta of Podolia will go with me, and one of the chamberlain's squadrons; besides these, Motovidlo will come with Cossacks and the dragoons of Linkhauz. There will be about six hundred soldiers, and with camp-followers up to a thousand. But I fear this, which the braggarts at the Diet in Warsaw will not believe, but which we on the borders expect every hour,—namely, a great war with the whole power of Turkey. This Pan Myslishevski has confirmed, and the Pasha of Hotin repeats it every day; the hetman believes that the Sultan will not leave Doroshenko without succor, but will declare war against the Commonwealth; and then what should I do with you, my dearest flower, my reward from God's hand?"

"What happens to you will happen to me, I wish no other fate than the fate which comes to you."

Here Zagloba broke his silence, and turning to Basia, said, "If the Turks capture you, whether you wish it or not, your fate will be different from Michael's. Ha! After the Cossacks, the Swedes, the Northerners, and the Brandenburg kennel—the Turk! I said to Olshovski, the vice-chancellor, 'Do not bring Doroshenko to despair, for only from necessity did he turn to the Turk.' Well, and what? They would not listen to me. They sent Hanenko against Doroshenko, and now Doroshenko, willing or unwilling, must crawl into the throat of the Turk, and, besides, lead him against us. You remember, Michael, that I forewarned Olshovski in your presence."

"You must have forewarned him some other time, for I do not remember that it was in my presence," said the little knight, "But what you say of Doroshenko is holy truth, for the hetman holds the same views; they say even that he has letters from Doroshenko written in that sense precisely. But as matters are, so they are; it is enough that it is too late now to negotiate. You have quick wit, however, and I should like to hear your opinion. Am I to take Basia to Hreptyoff, or is it better to leave her here? I must add too that the place is a terrible desert. It was always a wretched spot, but during twenty years so many Cossack parties and so many chambuls have passed through it, that I know not whether I shall find two beams fastened together. There is a world of ravines there, grown over with thickets, hiding-places, deep caves, and every kind of secret den in which robbers hide themselves by hundreds, not to mention those who come from Wallachia."

"Robbers, in view of such a force, are a trifle," said Zagloba. "Chambuls too are a trifle; for if strong ones march up, there will be a noise about them; and if they are small, you will rub them out."

"Well, now!" cried Basia; "is not the whole matter a trifle? Robbers are a trifle; chambuls are a trifle. With such a force Michael will defend me from all the power of the Crimea."

"Do not interrupt me in deliberation," said Zagloba; "if you do, I'll decide against you."

Basia put both palms on her mouth quickly, and dropped her head on her shoulder, feigning to fear Zagloba terribly, and though he knew that the dear woman was jesting, still her action pleased him; therefore he put his old hand on her bright head and said, "Have no fear; I will comfort you in this matter."

Basia kissed his hand straightway, for in truth much depended on his advice, which was so infallible that no one was ever led astray by it; he thrust both hands behind his belt, and glancing quickly with his seeing eye now on one, now on the other, said suddenly, "But there is no posterity here, none at all; how is that?" Here he thrust out his under-lip.

"The will of God, nothing more," said Pan Michael, dropping his eyes.

"The will of God, nothing more," said Basia, dropping her eyes.

"And do you wish for posterity?"

To this the little knight answered: "I will tell you sincerely, I do not know what I would give for children, but sometimes I think the wish vain. As it is, the Lord Jesus has sent happiness, giving me this kitten,—or as you call her, this haiduk,—and besides has blessed me with fame and with substance. I do not dare to trouble Him for greater blessings. You see it has come to my head more than once that if all people had their wishes accomplished, there would be no difference between this earthly Commonwealth and the heavenly one, which alone can give perfect happiness. So I think to myself that if I do not wait here for one or two sons, they will not miss me up there, and will serve and win glory in the old fashion under the heavenly hetman, the holy archangel Michael, in expeditions against the foulness of hell, and will attain to high office."

Here, moved at his own words and at that thought, the pious Christian knight raised his eyes to heaven; but Zagloba listened to him with indifference, and did not cease to mutter sternly. At last he said,—

"See that you do not blaspheme. Your boast that you divine the intentions of Providence so well may be a sin for which you will hop around as peas do on a hot pan. The Lord God has a wider sleeve than the bishop of Cracow, but He does not like to have any one look in to see what He has prepared there for small people, and He does what He likes; but do you see to that which concerns you, and if you wish for posterity, keep your wife with you, instead of leaving her."

When Basia heard this, she sprang with delight to the middle of the room, and clapping her hands, began to repeat, "Well, now! we'll keep together. I guessed at once that your grace would come to my side; I guessed it at once. We'll go to Hreptyoff, Michael. Even once you'll take me against the Tartars,—one little time, my dear, my golden!"

"There she is for you! Now she wants to go to an attack!" cried the little knight.

"For with you I should not fear the whole horde."

"
Silentium!
" said Zagloba, turning his delighted eyes, or rather his delighted eye, on Basia, whom he loved immensely. "I hope too that Hreptyoff, which, by the way, is not so far from here, is not the last stanitsa before the Wilderness."

"No; there will be commands farther on, in Mohiloff and Yampol; and the last is to be in Rashkoff," answered Pan Michael.

"In Rashkoff? We know Rashkoff. It was from that place that we brought Helena, Pan Yan's wife; and you remember that ravine in Valadynka, Michael. You remember how I cut down that monster, or devil, Cheremis, who was guarding her. But since the last garrison will be in Rashkoff, if the Crimea moves, or the whole Turkish power, they will know quickly in Rashkoff, and will give timely notice to Hreptyoff; there is no great danger then, for the place cannot be surprised. I say this seriously; and you know, besides, that I would rather lay down my old head than expose her to any risk. Take her. It will be better for you both. But Basia must promise that in case of a great war she will let herself be taken even to Warsaw, for there would be terrible campaigns and fierce battles, besieging of camps, perhaps hunger, as at Zbaraj; in such straits it is hard for a man to save his life, but what could a woman do?"