"He has, and he will get him, as sure as I am Chaplinski."
"But I tell you that he will not. Hmelnitski has escaped the ambush, and has gone to the Saitch, which you should have told Pan Pototski to-day. There is no fooling with Hmelnitski. Speaking briefly, he has more brains, a heavier hand, and greater luck than you, who are too hotheaded. Hmelnitski went away safely, I tell you; and if perhaps you don't believe me, this gentleman, who saw him in good health on the steppe and bade good-by to him yesterday, will repeat what I have said."
"Impossible, it cannot be!" boiled up Chaplinski, seizing himself by the hair.
"And what is more," added Zatsvilikhovski, "this knight before you saved him and killed your servants, for which he is not to blame, in spite of the hetman's order, since he was returning from a mission to the Crimea and knew nothing of the order. Seeing a man attacked in the steppe by ruffians, as he thought, he went to his assistance. Of this rescue of Hmelnitski I inform you in good season, for he is ready with his Zaporojians, and it is evident that you wouldn't be very glad to see him, for you have maltreated him over-much. Tfu! to the devil with such tricks!"
Zatsvilikhovski, also, did not like Chaplinski.
Chaplinski sprang from his seat, losing his speech from rage; his face was completely purple, and his eyes kept coming more and more out of his head. Standing before Skshetuski in this condition, he belched forth disconnected words, -
"How! in spite of the hetman's orders! I will-I will-"
Skshetuski did not even rise from the bench, but leaned on his elbows and watched Chaplinski, darting like a hawk on a sparrow.
"Why do you fasten to me like a burr to a dog's tail?"
"I'll drag you to the court with me! You in spite of orders! I with Cossacks!"
He stormed so much that it grew quieter in other parts of the room, and strangers began to turn their faces in the direction of Chaplinski. He was always seeking a quarrel, for such was his nature; he offended every man he met. But all were astonished, then, that he began with Zatsvilikhovski, who was the only person he feared, and with an officer wearing the colors of Prince Yeremi.
"Be silent, sir!" said the old standard-bearer. "This knight is in my company."
"I'll take you to the court! I'll take you to the court-to the stocks!" roared Chaplinski, paying no attention to anything or any man.
Then Skshetuski rose, straightened himself to his full height, but did not draw his sabre; he had it hanging low, and taking it by the middle raised it till he put the cross hilt under the very nose of Chaplinski.
"Smell that!" said he.
"Strike, whoever believes in God! Ai! here, my men!" shouted Chaplinski, grasping after his sword-hilt.
But he did not succeed in drawing his sword. The young lieutenant turned him around, caught him by the nape of the neck with one hand, and with the other by the trousers below the belt raised him, squirming like a salmon, and going to the door between the benches called out, -
"Brothers, clear the road for big horns; he'll hook!"
Saying this, he went to the threshold, struck and opened the door with Chaplinski, and hurled the under-starosta out into the street. Then he resumed his seat quietly at the side of Zatsvilikhovski.
In a moment there was silence in the room. The argument used by Pan Yan made a great impression on the assembled nobles. After a little while, however, the whole place shook with laughter.
"Hurrah for Vislinyevetski's man!" cried some.
"He has fainted! he has fainted, and is covered with blood!" cried others, who had looked through the door, curious to know what Chaplinski would do. "His servants are carrying him off!"
The partisans of the under-starosta, but few in number, were silent, and not having the courage to take his part, looked sullenly at Skshetuski.
"Spoken truth touches that hound to the quick," said Zatsvilikhovski.
"He is a cur, not a hound," said, while drawing near, a bulky nobleman who had a cataract on one eye and a hole in his forehead the size of a thaler, through which the naked skull appeared, "He is a cur, not a hound! Permit me," continued he, turning to Pan Yan, "to offer you my respects. I am Yan Zagloba; my escutcheon 'In the Forehead,' as every one may easily know by this hole which the bullet of a robber made in my forehead when I was on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in penance for the sins of my youth."
"But leave us in peace," said Zatsvilikhovski; "you said yourself that that was knocked out of you with a tankard in Radom."
"As I live, the bullet of a robber! That was another affair in Radom."
"You made a vow to go to the Holy Land, perhaps; but that you have never been there is certain."
"I have not been there, for in Galáts I received the palm of martyrdom; and if I lie, I am a supreme dog and not a nobleman."
"Ah, you never stop your stories!"
"Well, I am a rogue without hearing. To you, Lieutenant!"
In the mean while others came up to make the acquaintance of Skshetuski and express their regard for him. In general Chaplinski was not popular, and they were glad that disgrace had met him. It is strange and difficult to understand at this day that all the nobility in the neighborhood of Chigirin, and the smaller owners of villages, landed proprietors, and agriculturists, even though serving the Konyetspolskis, all knowing in neighbor fashion the dispute of Chaplinski with Hmelnitski, were on the side of the latter. Hmelnitski had indeed the reputation of a famous soldier who had rendered no mean services in various wars. It was known, also, that the king himself had had communication with him and valued his opinion highly. The whole affair was regarded as an ordinary squabble of one noble with another; such squabbles were counted by thousands, especially in the Russian lands. The part of the man was taken who knew how to incline to his side the majority, who did not foresee what terrible results were to come from this affair. Later on it was that hearts flamed up with hatred against Hmelnitski, the hearts of nobility and clergy of both churches in equal degree.
Presently men came up to Skshetuski with liquor by the quart, saying, -
"Drink, brother!"
"Have a drink with me too!"
"Long life to Vishnyevetski's men!"
"So young, and already a lieutenant with Vishnyevetski!"
"Long life to Yeremi, hetman of hetmans! With him we will go to the ends of the earth!"
"Against Turks and Tartars!"
"To Stamboul!"
"Long life to Vladislav, our king!"
Loudest of all shouted Pan Zagloba, who was ready all alone to out-drink and out-talk a whole regiment.
"Gentlemen!" shouted he, till the window-panes rattled, "I have summoned the Sultan for the assault on me which he permitted in Galáts."
"If you don't stop talking, you may wear the skin off your mouth."
"How so, my dear sir? Quatuor articuli judicii castrensis: stuprum, incendium, latrocinium et vis armata alienis ædibus illata. Was not that specifically vis armata?"
"You are a noisy woodcock, my friend."
"I'll go even to the highest court."
"But won't you keep quiet?"
"I will get a decision, proclaim him an outlaw, and then war to the knife."
"Health to you, gentlemen!"
Some broke out in laughter, and with them Skshetuski, for his head buzzed a trifle now; but Zagloba babbled on just like a woodcock, charmed with his own voice. Happily his discourse was interrupted by another noble, who, stepping up, pulled him by the sleeve and said in singing Lithuanian tones, -
"Introduce me, friend Zagloba, to Lieutenant Skshetuski, introduce me, please!"
"Of course, of course. Most worthy lieutenant, this is Pan Povsinoga."
"Of course, of course. Most worthy lieutenant, this is Pan Povsinoga."
"Podbipienta," said the other, correcting him.
"No matter; but his arms are Zervipludry-"2
"Zervikaptur,"3 corrected the stranger.
"All right. From Psikishki-"4
"From Myshikishki,"5 corrected the stranger.
"It's all the same. I don't remember whether I said mouse or dog entrails. But one thing is certain: I should not like to live in either place, for it is not easy to get there, and to depart is unseemly. Most gracious sir," said he, turning to Skshetuski, "I have now for a week been drinking wine at the expense of this gentleman, who has a sword at his belt as heavy as his purse, and his purse is as heavy as his wit. But if ever I have drunk wine at the cost of such an original, then may I call myself as big a fool as the man who buys wine for me."
"Well, he has given him a description!"
But the Lithuanian was not angry; he only waved his hand, smiled kindly, and said: "You might give us a little peace; it is terrible to listen to you!"
Pan Yan looked with curiosity at the new figure, which in truth deserved to be called original. First of all, it was the figure of a man of such stature that his head was as high as a wall, and his extreme leanness made him appear taller still. His broad shoulders and sinewy neck indicated uncommon strength, but he was merely skin and bone. His stomach had so fallen in from his chest that he might have been taken for a man dying of hunger. He was well dressed in a gray closely fitting coat of sveboda cloth with narrow arms, and high Swedish boots, then coming into use in Lithuania. A broad and well-filled elk-skin girdle with nothing to support it had slipped down to his hips; to this girdle was attached a Crusader's sword, which was so long that it reached quite to the shoulder of this gigantic man.
But whoever should be alarmed at the sword would be reassured in a moment by a glance at the face of its owner. The face, lean like the whole person, was adorned with hanging brows and a pair of drooping, hemp-colored mustaches, but was as honest and sincere as the face of a child. The hanging mustaches and brows gave him an expression at once anxious, thoughtful, and ridiculous. He looked like a man whom people elbow aside; but he pleased Skshetuski from the first glance because of the sincerity of his face and his perfect soldierly self-control.
"Lieutenant," said he, "you are in the service of Prince Vishnyevetski?"
"I am."
The Lithuanian placed his hands together as if in prayer, and raised his eyes.
"Ah, what a mighty warrior, what a hero, what a leader!"
"God grant the Commonwealth as many such as possible!"
"But could I not enter his service?"
"He will be glad to have you."
At this point Zagloba interrupted the conversation.
"The prince will have two spits for his kitchen, one in you, one in your sword, or he will hire you as a cook, or he will order robbers to be hanged on you, or he will measure cloth with you to make uniforms! Tfu! why are you not ashamed as a man and a Catholic to be as long as a serpent or the lance of an infidel?"
"Oh, it's disgusting to hear you," said the Lithuanian, patiently.
"What is your title?" asked Skshetuski; "for when you were speaking Pan Zagloba interrupted so often that if you will pardon me-"
"Podbipienta."
"Povsinoga," added Zagloba.
"Zervikaptur of Myshikishki."
"Here, old woman, is fun for you. I drink his wine, but I'm a fool if these are not outlandish titles."
"Are you from Lithuania?" asked the lieutenant.
"Well, I'm two weeks now in Chigirin. Hearing from Pan Zatsvilikhovski that you were coming, I waited to present my request to the prince with his recommendation."
"Tell me, please, for I am curious, why do you carry such an executioner's sword under your arm?"
"It is not the sword of an executioner, Lieutenant, but of a Crusader, and I wear it because it is a trophy and has been long in my family. It served at Khoinitsi in Lithuanian hands, and that's why I wear it."
"But it's a savage machine, and must be terribly heavy. It's for two hands, I suppose?"
"Oh, it can be used in two hands or one."
"Let me have a look at it."
The Lithuanian drew the sword and handed it to him; but Skshetuski's arm dropped in a moment. He could neither point the weapon nor aim a blow freely. He tried with both hands; still it was heavy. Skshetuski was a little ashamed, and turning to those present, said, -
"Now, gentlemen, who can make a cross with it?"
"We have tried already," answered several voices. "Pan Zatsvilikhovski is the only man who raises it, but he can't make a cross with it."
"Well, let us see you, sir," said Skshetuski, turning to the Lithuanian.
Podbipienta raised the sword as if it were a cane, and whirled it several times with the greatest ease, till the air in the room whistled and a breeze was blowing on their faces.
"May God be your aid!" said Skshetuski. "You have sure service with the prince."
"God knows that I am anxious, and my sword will not rust in it."
"But what about your wits," asked Zagloba, "since you don't know how to use them?"
Zatsvilikhovski now rose, and with the lieutenant was preparing to go out, when a man with hair white as a dove entered, and seeing Zatsvilikhovski, said, -
"I have come here on purpose to see you, sir."
This was Barabash, the Colonel of Cherkasi.
"Then come to my quarters," replied Zatsvilikhovski. "There is such a smoke here that nothing can be seen."
They went out together, Skshetuski with them. As soon as he had crossed the threshold, Barabash asked, -
"Are there news of Hmelnitski?"
"There are. He has fled to the Saitch. This officer met him yesterday in the steppe."
"Then he has not gone by water? I hurried off a courier to Kudák to have him seized; but if what you say is true, 'tis useless."
When he had said this, Barabash covered his eyes with his hands, and began to repeat, "Oh, Christ save us! Christ save us!"
"Why are you disturbed?"
"Don't you know the treason he has wrought on me? Don't you know what it means to publish such documents in the Saitch? Christ save us! Unless the king makes war on the Mussulman, this will be a spark upon powder."
"You predict a rebellion?"
"I do not predict, I see it; and Hmelnitski is somewhat beyond Nalivaika and Loboda."
"But who will follow him?"
"Who? Zaporojians, registered Cossacks, people of the towns, the mob, cottagers, and such as these out here."
Barabash pointed to the market-square and to the people moving around upon it. The whole square was thronged with great gray oxen on the way to Korsún for the army; and with the oxen went a crowd of herdsmen (Chabani), who passed their whole lives in the steppe and Wilderness, men perfectly wild, professing no religion, ("religionis nullius," as the Voevoda Kisel said). Among them were forms more like robbers than herdsmen, fierce, terrible, covered with remnants of various garments. The greater part of them were dressed in sheepskin doublets or in untanned skins with the wool outside, open in front and showing, even in winter, the naked breast embrowned by the winds of the steppe. All were armed, but with the greatest variety of weapons. Some had bows and quivers on their shoulders; some muskets or "squealers" (so called by the Cossacks); some had Tartar sabres, some scythes; and finally, there were those who had only sticks with horse-jaws fastened on the ends. Among them mingled the no less wild, though better armed men from the lower country, taking to the camp for sale dried fish, game, and mutton fat. Farther on were the Chumaki (ox-drivers) with salt, bee-keepers from the steppes and forest, wax-bleachers with honey, forest-dwellers with tar and pitch, peasants with wagons, registered Cossacks, Tartars from Bélgorod, and God knows what tramps and "vampires" from the ends of the earth. The whole town was full of drunken men. Chigirin was the place of lodging, and therefore of a frolic before bedtime. Fires were scattered over the market-square, while here and there an empty tar-barrel was burning. From every point were heard cries and bustle. The shrill squeak of Tartar pipes and the sound of drums was mingled with the bellowing of cattle and the softer note of the lyre, to which old men sang the favorite song of the time, -