"Various people have been going around here," said one of the Domasheviches; "we thought they were deserters, but they were surely his spies."
"Of course. Every day strange minstrels used to visit Vodokty as if for alms," said others.
"And what kind of soldiers has Kmita?"
"The servants in Vodokty say they are Cossacks. It is certain that Kmita has made friends with Hovanski or Zolotarenko. Hitherto he was a murderer, now he is an evident traitor."
"How could he bring Cossacks thus far?"
"With such a great band it is not easy to pass. Our first good company would have stopped him on the road."
"Well, they might go through the forests. Besides, are there few lords travelling with domestic Cossacks? Who can tell them from the enemy? If these men are asked they will say that they are domestic Cossacks."
"He will defend himself," said one of the Gostsyeviches, "for he is a brave and resolute man; but our colonel will be a match for him."
"The Butryms too have vowed that even if they have to fall one on the other, he will not leave there alive. They are the most bitter against him."
"But if we kill him, from whom will they recover their losses? Better take him alive and give him to justice."
"What is the use in thinking of courts now when all have lost their heads? Do you know that people say war may come from the Swedes?"
"May God preserve us from that! The Moscow power and Hmelnitski at present; only the Swedes are wanting, and then the last day of the Commonwealth."
At this moment Volodyovski riding in advance turned and said, "Quiet there, gentlemen!"
The nobles grew silent, for Lyubich was in sight. In a quarter of an hour they had come within less than forty rods of the building. All the windows were illuminated; the light shone into the yard, which was full of armed men and horses. Nowhere sentries, no precautions, it was evident that Kmita trusted too much in his strength. When he had drawn still nearer, Pan Volodyovski with one glance recognized the Cossacks against whom he had warred so much during the life of the great Yeremi, and later under Radzivill.
"If those are strange Cossacks, then that ruffian has passed the limit."
He looked farther; brought his whole party to a halt. There was a terrible bustle in the court. Some Cossacks were giving light with torches; others were running in every direction, coming out of the house and going in again, bringing out things, packing bags into the wagons; others were leading horses from the stable, driving cattle from the stalls. Cries, shouts, commands, crossed one another in every direction. The gleam of torches lighted as it were the moving of a tenant to a new estate on St. John's Eve.
Kryshtof, the oldest among the Domasheviches, pushed up to Volodyovski and said, "They want to pack all Lyubich into wagons."
"They will take away," answered Volodyovski, "neither Lyubich nor their own skins. I do not recognize Kmita, who is an experienced soldier. There is not a single sentry."
"Because he has great force, it seems to me more than three hundred strong. If we had not returned he might have passed with the wagons through all the villages."
"Is this the only road to the house?" asked Volodyovski.
"The only one, for in the rear are ponds and swamps."
"That is well. Dismount!"
Obedient to this command, the nobles sprang from their saddles. The rear ranks of infantry deployed in a long line, and began to surround the house and the buildings. Volodyovski with the main division advanced directly on the gate.
"Wait the command!" said he, in a low voice. "Fire not before the order."
A few tens of steps only separated the nobles from the gate when they were seen at last from the yard. Men sprang at once to the fence, bent forward, and peering carefully into the darkness, called threateningly, "Hei! Who are there?"
"Halt!" cried Volodyovski; "fire!"
Shots from all the guns which the nobles carried thundered together; but the echo had not come back from the building when the voice of Volodyovski was heard again: "On the run!"
"Kill! slay!" cried the Lauda men, rushing forward like a torrent.
The Cossacks answered with shots, but they had not time to reload. The throng of nobles rushed against the gate, which soon fell before the pressure of armed men. A struggle began to rage in the yard, among the wagons, horses, and bags. The powerful Butryms, the fiercest in hand-to-hand conflict and the most envenomed against Kmita, advanced in line. They went like a herd of stags bursting through a growth of young trees, breaking, trampling, destroying, and cutting wildly. Alter them rolled the Domasheviches and the Gostsyeviches.
Kmita's Cossacks defended themselves manfully from behind the wagons and packs; they began to fire too from all the windows of the house and from the roof, but rarely, for the trampled torches were quenched, and it was difficult to distinguish their own from the enemy. After a while the Cossacks were pushed from the yard and the house to the stables; cries for quarter were heard. The nobles had triumphed.
But when they were alone in the yard, fire from the house increased at once. All the windows were bristling with muskets, and a storm of bullets began to fall on the yard. The greater part of the Cossacks had taken refuge in the house.
"To the doors!" cried Volodyovski.
In fact, the discharges from the windows and from the roof could not injure those at the very walls. The position, however, of the besiegers was difficult. They could not think of storming the windows, for fire would greet them straight in the face. Volodyovski therefore commanded to hew down the doors. But that was not easy, for they were bolts rather than doors, made of oak pieces fixed crosswise and fastened with many gigantic nails, on the strong heads of which axes were dented without breaking the doors. The most powerful men pushed then from time to time with their shoulders, but in vain. Behind the doors wore iron bars, and besides they were supported inside by props. But the Butryms hewed with rage. At the doors of the kitchen leading also to the storehouse the Domasheviches and Gashtovts were storming.
After vain efforts of an hour the men at the axes were relieved. Some cross-pieces had fallen, but in place of them appeared gun-barrels. Shots sounded again. Two Butryms fell to the ground with pierced breasts. The others, instead of being put to disorder, hewed still more savagely.
By command of Volodyovski the openings were stopped with bundles of coats. Now in the direction of the road new shouts were heard from the Stakyans, who had come to the aid of their brethren; and following them were armed peasants from Vodokty.
The arrival of these reinforcements had evidently disturbed the besieged, for straightway a voice behind the door called loudly: "Stop there! do not hew! listen! Stop, a hundred devils take you! let us talk."
Volodyovski gave orders to stop the work and asked; "Who is speaking?"
"The banneret of Orsha, Kmita; and with whom am I speaking?"
"Col. Michael Volodyovski."
"With the forehead!" answered the voice from behind the door.
"There is no time for greetings. What is your wish?"
"It would be more proper for me to ask what you want. You do not know me, nor I you; why attack me?"
"Traitor!" cried Volodyovski. "With me are the men of Lauda who have returned from the war, and they have accounts with you for robbery, for blood shed without cause and for the lady whom you have carried away. But do you know what raptus puellæ means? You must yield your life."
A moment of silence followed.
"You would not call me traitor a second time," said Kmita, "were it not for the door between us."
A moment of silence followed.
"You would not call me traitor a second time," said Kmita, "were it not for the door between us."
"Open it, then! I do not hinder."
"More than one dog from Lauda will cover himself with his legs before it is open. You will not take me alive."
"Then we will drag you out dead, by the hair. All one to us!"
"Listen with care, note what I tell you! If you do not let us go, I have a barrel of powder here, and the match is burning already. I'll blow up the house and all who are in it with myself, so help me God! Come now and take me!"
This time a still longer silence followed. Volodyovski sought an answer in vain. The nobles began to look at one another in fear. There was so much wild energy in the words of Kmita that all believed his threat. The whole victory might be turned into dust by one spark, and Panna Billevich lost forever.
"For God's sake!" muttered one of the Butryms, "he is a madman. He is ready to do what he says."
Suddenly a happy thought came to Volodyovski, as it seemed to him. "There is another way!" cried he. "Meet me, traitor, with a sabre. If you put me down, you will go away in freedom."
For a time there was no answer. The hearts of the Lauda men beat unquietly.
"With a sabre?" asked Kmita, at length. "Can that be?"
"If you are not afraid, it will be."
"The word of a cavalier that I shall go away in freedom?"
"The word-"
"Impossible!" cried a number of voices among the Butryms.
"Quiet, a hundred devils!" roared Volodyovski; "if not, then let him blow you up with himself."
The Butryms were silent; after a while one of them said, "Let it be as you wish."
"Well, what is the matter there?" asked Kmita, derisively. "Do the gray coats agree?"
"Yes, and they will take oath on their swords, if you wish."
"Let them take oath."
"Come together, gentlemen, come together!" cried Volodyovski to the nobles who were standing under the walls and surrounding the whole house.
After a while all collected at the main door, and soon the news that Kmita wanted to blow himself up with powder spread on every side. They were as if petrified with terror. Meanwhile Volodyovski raised his voice and said amid silence like that of the grave, -
"I take you all present here to witness that I have challenged Pan Kmita, the banneret of Orsha, to a duel, and I have promised that if he puts me down he shall go hence in freedom, without obstacle from you; to this you must swear on your sword-hilts, in the name of God and the holy cross-"
"But wait!" cried Kmita, "in freedom with all my men, and I take the lady with me."
"The lady will remain here," answered Volodyovski, "and the men will go as prisoners to the nobles."
"That cannot be."
"Then blow yourself up with powder! We have already mourned for her; as to the men, ask them what they prefer."
Silence followed.
"Let it be so," said Kmita, after a time. "If I do not take her to-day, I will in a month. You will not hide her under the ground! Take the oath!"
"Take the oath!" repeated Volodyovski.
"We swear by the Most High God and the Holy Cross. Amen!"
"Well, come out, come out!" cried Volodyovski.
"You are in a hurry to the other world?"
"No matter, no matter, only come out quickly."
The iron bars holding the door on the inside began to groan.
Volodyovski pushed back, and with him the nobles, to make room. Soon the door opened, and in it appeared Pan Andrei, tall, straight as a poplar. The dawn was already coming, and the first pale light of day fell on his daring, knightly, and youthful face. He stopped in the door, looked boldly on the crowd of nobles, and said, -
"I have trusted in you. God knows whether I have done well, but let that go. Who here is Pan Volodyovski?"
The little colonel stepped forward. "I am!" answered he.
"Oh! you are not like a giant," said Kmita, with sarcastic reference to Volodyovski's stature, "I expected to find a more considerable figure, though I must confess you are evidently a soldier of experience."
"I cannot say the same of you, for you have neglected sentries. If you are the same at the sabre as at command, I shall not have work."
"Where shall we fight?" asked Kmita, quickly.
"Here, the yard is as level as a table."
"Agreed! Prepare for death."
"Are you so sure?"
"It is clear that you have never been in Orsha, since you doubt. Not only am I sure, but I am sorry, for I have heard of you as a splendid soldier. Therefore I say for the last time, let me go! We do not know each other; why should we stand the one in the way of the other? Why attack me? The maiden is mine by the will, as well as this property; and God knows I am only seeking my own. It is true that I cut down the nobles in Volmontovichi, but let God decide who committed the first wrong. Whether my officers were men of violence or not, we need not discuss; it is enough that they did no harm to any one here, and they were slaughtered to the last man because they wanted to dance with girls in a public house. Well, let blood answer blood! After that my soldiers were cut to pieces. I swear by the wounds of God that I came to these parts without evil intent, and how was I received? But let wrong balance wrong, I will still add from my own and make losses good in neighbor fashion. I prefer that to another way."
"And what kind of people have you here? Where did you get these assistants?" asked Volodyovski.
"Where I got them I got them. I did not bring them against the country, but to obtain my own rights."
"Is that the kind of man you are? So for private affairs you have joined the enemy. And with what have you paid him for this service, if not with treason? No, brother, I should not hinder you from coming to terms with the nobles, but to call in the enemy is another thing. You will not creep out. Stand up now, stand up, or I shall say that you are a coward, though you give yourself out as a master from Orsha."
"You would have it," said Kmita, taking position.
But Volodyovski did not hurry, and not taking his sabre out yet, he looked around on the sky. Day was already coming in the east. The first golden and azure stripes were extended in a belt of light, but in the yard it was still gloomy enough, and just in front of the house complete darkness reigned.
"The day begins well," said Volodyovski, "but the sun will not rise soon. Perhaps you would wish to have light?"
"It is all one to me."
"Gentlemen!" cried Volodyovski, turning to the nobles, "go for some straw and for torches; it will be clearer for us in this Orsha dance."
The nobles, to whom this humorous tone of the young colonel gave wonderful consolation, rushed quickly to the kitchen. Some of them fell to collecting the torches trampled at the time of the battle, and in a little while nearly fifty red flames were gleaming in the semi-darkness of the early morning.
Volodyovski showed them with his sabre to Kmita. "Look, a regular funeral procession!"
And Kmita answered at once: "They are burying a colonel, so there must be parade."
"You are a dragon!"
Meanwhile the nobles formed in silence a circle around the knights, and raised the burning torches aloft; behind them others took their places, curious and disquieted; in the centre the opponents measured each other with their eyes. A grim silence began; only burned coals fell with a crackle to the ground. Volodyovski was as lively as a goldfinch on a bright morning.
"Begin!" said Kmita.
The first clash raised an echo in the heart of every onlooker. Volodyovski struck as if unwillingly; Kmita warded and struck in his turn; Volodyovski warded. The dry clash grew more rapid. All held breath. Kmita attacked with fury. Volodyovski put his left hand behind his back and stood quietly, making very careless, slight, almost imperceptible movements; it seemed that he wished merely to defend himself, and at the same time spare his opponent. Sometimes he pushed a short step backward, again he advanced; apparently he was studying the skill of Kmita. Kmita was growing heated; Volodyovski was cool as a master testing his pupil, and all the time calmer and calmer. At last, to the great surprise of the nobles, he said, -