With Fire and Sword - Henryk Sienkiewicz (ink book reader .TXT) 📗

know the conditions in which we are defending ourselves, and that we are eating the last fragments?”

“We have sacrificed ourselves,” said Skshetuski.

“But couldn’t we let him know?” asked Zagloba.

“If there could be found a man of such virtue as to undertake to steal through,” said the starosta, “he would win immortal glory in his lifetime⁠—he would be the savior of the whole army, and would avert defeat from the fatherland. Even if the general militia has not all appeared yet, perhaps the nearness of the king might disperse the rebellion. But who will go, who will undertake it, since Hmelnitski has so possessed every road and exit that a mouse could not squeeze through from the camp? Such an undertaking is clear and evident death!”

“But what are stratagems for?⁠—and one is now entering my head.”

“What is it, what is it?” asked the starosta.

“This. Every day we take prisoners: bribe one of these; let them feign escape from us, and run to the king.”

“I must mention this to the prince,” said the starosta.

Pan Longin fell into deep thought; his brows were covered with furrows, and he sat a whole hour in silence. Suddenly he raised his head, and spoke with his usual sweetness: “I will undertake to steal through the Cossacks.”

The knights, hearing these words, sprang from their seats in amazement. Zagloba opened his mouth, Volodyovski’s mustaches quivered, Skshetuski grew pale; and the starosta, striking himself on the breast, cried: “Would you undertake to do this?”

“Have you considered what you say?” asked Pan Yan.

“I considered it long ago,” answered the Lithuanian; “for this is not the first day that the knights say that notice must be given the king of our position. And I, hearing this, thought to myself: ‘If the Most High God permits me to fulfil my vow, I will go at once. I am an obscure man; what do I signify? What harm to me, even am killed on the road?’ ”

“But they will cut you to pieces, without doubt!” cried Zagloba, “Have you heard what the starosta says⁠—that it is evident death?”

“What of that, brother? If God wishes, he will carry me through; if not, he will reward me in heaven.”

“But first they will seize you, torture you, give you a fearful death. Have you lost your reason, man?” asked Zagloba.

“I will go, anyhow,” answered the Lithuanian, mildly.

“A bird could not fly through, for they would shoot it from their bows. They have surrounded us like a badger in his hole.”

“Still I will go!” repeated the Lithuanian. “I owe thanks to the Lord for permitting me to fulfil my vow.”

“Well, look at him, examine him!” said Zagloba, in desperation. “You would better have your head cut off at once and shoot it from a cannon over the tabor, for in this way alone could you push through them.”

“But permit me, my friends,” said Pan Longin, clasping his hands.

“Oh, no; you will not go alone, for I will go with you,” said Skshetuski.

“And I with you both!” added Volodyovski, striking his sword.

“And may the bullets strike you!” cried Zagloba, seizing himself by the head. “May the bullets strike you with your ‘And I,’ ‘And I,’ with your daring! They have not had enough of blood yet, not enough of destruction, not enough of bullets! What is doing here is not sufficient for them; they want more certainty of having their necks twisted. Go to the dogs, and give me peace! I hope you will be cut to pieces.” When he had said this he began to circle about in the tent as if mad. “God is punishing me,” cried he, “for associating with whirlwinds instead of honorable, solid men. It serves me right.” He walked through the tent awhile longer with feverish tread; at last he stopped before Skshetuski; then, putting his hands behind his back and looking into his eyes, began to puff terribly: “What have I done that you persecute me?”

“God save us!” exclaimed the knight. “What do you mean?”

“I do not wonder that Podbipienta invents such things; he always had his wit in his fist. But since he has killed the three greatest fools among the Turks he has become the fourth himself⁠—”

“It is disgusting to hear him,” interrupted the Lithuanian.

“And I don’t wonder at him,” continued Zagloba, pointing at Volodyovski. “He will jump on a Cossack’s bootleg, or hold to his trousers as a burr does to a dog’s tail, and get through quicker than any of us. The Holy Spirit has not shone upon either of the two; but that you, instead of restraining their madness, should add excitement to it, that you are going yourself, and wish to expose us four to certain death and torture⁠—that is the final blow! Tfu! I did not expect this of an officer whom the prince himself has esteemed a valiant knight.”

“How four?” asked Skshetuski, in astonishment. “Do you want to go?”

“Yes!” cried Zagloba, beating his breast with his fists, “I will go. If any of you go, or all go together, I will go too. My blood be on your heads! I shall know next time with whom to associate.”

“Well may you!” said Skshetuski.

The three knights began to embrace him; but he was angry in earnest, and puffed and pushed them away with his elbows, saying: “Go to the devil! I don’t want your Judas kisses.” Then was heard on the walls the firing of cannon and muskets. “There it is for you, go!”

“That is ordinary firing,” remarked Pan Yan.

“Ordinary firing!” repeated Zagloba, mocking him. “Well, just think this is not enough for them. Half the army is destroyed by this ordinary firing, and they turn up their noses at it.”

“Be of good cheer,” said Podbipienta.

“You ought to keep your mouth shut, Botvinia. You are most to blame; you have invented an undertaking which if it is not a fool’s errand then I’m a fool.”

“But still I’ll go, brother,” said Pan Longin.

“You’ll go, you’ll go; and I know why. Don’t exhibit yourself as a hero, for