It seemed to Kmita at sight of him that some one had squeezed his heart with an iron hand. Compassion rose in the ardent soul of the young hero. Compunction, sorrow, and homage straitened the breath in his throat, a feeling of immeasurable guilt cut his knees under him so that he began to tremble through his whole body, and at once a new feeling rose in his breast. In one moment he had conceived such a love for that suffering king that to him there was nothing dearer on earth than that father and lord, for whom he was ready to sacrifice blood and life, bear torture and everything else in the world. He wished to throw himself at those feet, to embrace those knees, and implore forgiveness for his crimes. The noble, the insolent disturber, had died in him in one moment, and the royalist was born, devoted with his whole soul to his king.
"That is our lord, our unhappy king," repeated he to himself, as if he wished with his lips to give witness to what his eyes saw and what his heart felt.
After the Gospel, Yan Kazimir knelt again, stretched out his arms, raised his eyes to heaven, and was sunk in prayer. The priest went out at last, there was a movement in the church, the king remained kneeling.
Then that noble whom Kmita had addressed pushed Pan Andrei in the side.
"But who are you?" asked he.
Kmita did not understand the question at once, and did not answer it directly, so greatly were his heart and mind occupied by the person of the king.
"And who are you?" repeated that personage.
"A noble like yourself," answered Pan Andrei, waking as if from a dream.
"What is your name?"
"What is my name? Babinich; I am from Lithuania, from near Vityebsk."
"And I am Pan Lugovski, of the king's household. Have you just come from Lithuania, from Vityebsk?"
"No; I come from Chenstohova."
Pan Lugovski was dumb for a moment from wonder.
"But if that is true, then come and tell us the news. The king is almost dead from anxiety because he has had no certain tidings these three days. How is it? You are perhaps from the squadron of Zbrojek, Kalinski, or Kuklinovski, from near Chenstohova."
"Not from near Chenstohova, but directly from the cloister itself."
"Are you not jesting? What is going on there, what is to be heard? Does Yasna Gora defend itself yet?"
"It does, and will defend itself. The Swedes are about to retreat."
"For God's sake! The king will cover you with gold. From the very cloister do you say that you have come? How did the Swedes let you pass?"
"I did not ask their permission; but pardon me, I cannot give a more extended account in the church."
"Right, right!" said Pan Lugovski. "God is merciful! You have fallen from heaven to us! It is not proper in the church, right! Wait a moment. The king will rise directly; he will go to breakfast before high Mass. To-day is Sunday. Come stand with me at the door, and when the king is going out I will present you. Come, come, there is no time to spare."
He pushed ahead, and Kmita followed. They had barely taken their places at the door when the two pages appeared, and after them came Yan Kazimir slowly.
"Gracious King!" cried Pan Lugovski, "there are tidings from Chenstohova."
The wax-like face of Yan Kazimir became animated in an instant.
"What tidings? Where is the man?" inquired he.
"This noble; he says that he has come from the very cloister."
"Is the cloister captured?" cried the king.
That moment Pan Andrei fell his whole length at the feet of the king. Yan Kazimir inclined and began to raise him by the arms.
"Oh, ceremony another time, another time!" cried he. "Rise, in God's name, rise! Speak quickly! Is the cloister taken?"
Kmita sprang up with tears in his eyes, and cried with animation,
"It is not, and will not be taken, Gracious Lord. The Swedes are beaten. The great gun is blown up. There is fear among them, hunger, misery. They are thinking of retreat."
"Praise, praise to Thee, Queen of the Angels and of us!" said the king. Then he turned to the church door, removed his hat, and without entering knelt on the snow at the door. He supported his head on a stone pillar, and sank into silence. After a while sobbing began to shake him. Emotion seized all, and Pan Andrei wept loudly. The king, after he had prayed and shed tears, rose quieted, with a face much clearer. He inquired his name of Kmita, and when the latter had told his assumed one, said,
"Let Pan Lugovski conduct you at once to our quarters. We shall not take our morning food without hearing of the defence."
A quarter of an hour later Kmita was standing in the king's chamber before a distinguished assembly. The king was only waiting for the queen, to sit down to breakfast. Marya Ludvika appeared soon. Yan Kazimir barely saw her when he exclaimed,
"Chenstohova has held out! The Swedes will retreat! Here is Pan Babinich, who has just come, and he brings the news."
The black eyes of the queen rested inquiringly on the youthful face of the hero, and seeing its sincerity, they grew bright with joy; and he, when he had made a profound obeisance, looked also at her boldly, as truth and honesty know how to look.
"The power of God!" said the queen. "You have taken a terrible weight from our hearts, and God grant this is the beginning of a change of fortune. Do you come straight from near Chenstohova?"
"Not from near Chenstohova, he says, but from the cloister itself, one of the defenders!" exclaimed the king. "A golden guest! God grant such to come daily; but let him begin. Tell, brother, tell how you defended yourselves, and how the hand of God guarded you."
"It is sure, Gracious King and Queen, that nothing saved us but the guardianship of God and the miracles of the Most Holy Lady, which I saw every day with my eyes."
Here Kmita was preparing for his narrative, when new dignitaries appeared. First came the nuncio of the Pope; then the primate, Leshchynski; after him Vydjga, a golden-mouthed preacher, who was the queen's chancellor, later bishop of Varmia, and finally primate. With him came the chancellor of the kingdom, Pan Korytsinski, and the Frenchman De Noyers, a relative of the queen, and other dignitaries who had not deserted the king in misfortune, but chose to share with him the bitter bread of exile rather than break plighted faith.
The king was eager to hear; therefore he ceased eating, every moment, and repeated, "Listen, gentlemen, listen; a guest from Chenstohova! Good news; hear it! From Yasna Gora itself!"
Then the dignitaries looked with curiosity on Kmita, who was standing as it were before a court; but he, bold by nature and accustomed to intercourse with great people, was not a whit alarmed at sight of so many celebrated persons; and when all had taken their places, he began to describe the whole siege.
Truth was evident in his words; for he spoke with clearness and strength, like a soldier who had seen everything, touched everything, passed through everything. He praised to the skies Pan Zamoyski and Pan Charnyetski; spoke of Kordetski, the prior, as of a holy prophet; exalted other fathers; missed no one save himself; but he ascribed the whole success of the defence, without deviation, to the Most Holy Lady, to Her favor and miracles.
The king and the dignitaries listened to him in amazement. The archbishop raised his tearful eyes to heaven. Father Vydjga interpreted everything hurriedly to the nuncio; other great personages caught their heads; some prayed, or beat their breasts.
At last, when Kmita came to the recent storms, when he began to relate how Miller had brought heavy guns from Cracow, and among them one against which not only the walls of Chenstohova, but no walls in the world could stand, such silence began as though some one were sowing poppy seeds, and all eyes rested on Pan Andrei's lips.
The king and the dignitaries listened to him in amazement. The archbishop raised his tearful eyes to heaven. Father Vydjga interpreted everything hurriedly to the nuncio; other great personages caught their heads; some prayed, or beat their breasts.
At last, when Kmita came to the recent storms, when he began to relate how Miller had brought heavy guns from Cracow, and among them one against which not only the walls of Chenstohova, but no walls in the world could stand, such silence began as though some one were sowing poppy seeds, and all eyes rested on Pan Andrei's lips.
But he stopped suddenly, and began to breathe quickly; a clear flush came out on his face; he frowned, raised his head, and spoke boldly: "Now I must speak of myself, though I should prefer to be silent. And if I say aught which seems praise, God is my witness that I do so not for rewards, for I do not need them, since the greatest reward for me is to shed my blood for majesty."
"Speak boldly, I believe you," said the king. "But that great gun?"
"That great gun I, stealing out in the night from the fortress, blew into fragments with powder."
"O loving God!" cried the king.
But after this cry was silence, such astonishment had seized each person. All looked as at a rainbow at the young hero, who stood with flashing eyes, with a flush on his face, and with head proudly erect. And so much was there in him at that moment of a certain terribleness and wild courage that the thought came to each one unwittingly, such a man might dare such a deed. After silence of a moment the primate said,
"This man looks like that!"
"How did you do it?" asked the king.
Kmita explained how he did it.
"I cannot believe my ears," said Pan Korytsinski, the chancellor.
"Worthy gentlemen," answered the king, with dignity, "you do not know whom we have before us. There is yet hope that the Commonwealth has not perished while it gives such cavaliers and citizens."
"This man might say of himself, 'Si fractus illabatur orbis, impavidum ferient ruinæ (If the broken firmament should fall the ruins would strike him unterrified)!'" said Father Vydjga, who loved to quote authors at every opportunity.
"These are almost impossible things," said the chancellor again. "Tell, Cavalier, how you brought away your life, and how you passed through the Swedes."
"The explosion stunned me," said Kmita, "and next day the Swedes found me in the ditch lying as if lifeless. They judged me at once, and Miller condemned me to death."
"Then did you escape?"
"A certain Kuklinovski begged me of Miller, so that he might put me to death, for he had a fierce animosity against me."
"He is a well-known disturber and murderer; we have heard of him," said the castellan of Kjyvinsk. "His regiment is with Miller at Chenstohova. That is true!"
"Previously Kuklinovski was an envoy from Miller to the cloister, and once tried to persuade me in secret to treason when I was conducting him to the gate. I struck him in the face and kicked him. For that insult he was enraged against me."
"Ah, this I see is a noble of fire and sulphur!" cried the king, amused. "Do not go into such a man's road. Did Miller then give you to Kuklinovski?"
"He did, Gracious Gentlemen. Kuklinovski shut me with himself and some men in an empty little barn. There he had me tied to a beam with ropes, then he began to torture me and to burn my sides with fire."
"By the living God!"
"While doing this he was called away to Miller; when he was gone three nobles came, certain Kyemliches, his soldiers, who had served with me previously. They killed the guards, and unbound me from the beam "
"And you fled! Now I understand," said the king.
"No, your Royal Grace. We waited for the return of Kuklinovski. Then I gave command to tie him to that same beam, and I burned him better with fire."
When he had said this, Kmita, roused by remembrance, became red again, and his eyes gleamed like those of a wolf. But the king, who passed easily from grief to joy, from seriousness to sport, began to strike the table with his hand, and exclaim with laughter,
"That was good for him! that was good for him! Such a traitor deserved nothing better!"
"I left him alive," continued Kmita, "but he must have perished from cold before morning."
"That's a deed; he does not give away his own. We need more of such!" cried the king, now completely delighted. "Did you come hither with those soldiers? What are their names?"
"They are Kyemlich, a father and two sons."
"My mother is from the house of Kyemlich," said Father Vydjga.
"It is evident that there are great and small Kyemliches," answered Kmita, smiling; "these are not only small persons, but robbers; they are fierce soldiers, however, and faithful to me."
Meanwhile the chancellor, who had been whispering for a time in the ear of the Archbishop of Gnyezno, said at last,
"Many come here who for their own praise or for an expected reward are glad to raise dust. They bring false and disturbing news, and are frequently sent by the enemy."
This remark chilled all present. Kmita's face became purple.
"I do not know the office of your grace," said he, "which, I think, must be considerable, therefore I do not wish to offend you; but there is no office, as I think, which would empower any one to give the lie to a noble, without reason."
"Man! you are speaking to the grand chancellor of the kingdom," said Lugovski.
"Whoso gives me the lie, even if he is chancellor, I answer him, it is easier to give the lie than to give your life, it is easier to seal with wax than with blood!"
Pan Korytsinski was not angry; he only said: "I do not give you the lie, Cavalier; but if what you say is true, you must have a burned side."
"Come to another place, your great mightiness, to another room, and I will show it to you!" roared Kmita.
"It is not needful," said the king; "I believe you without that."
"It cannot be, your Royal Grace," exclaimed Pan Andrei; "I wish it myself, I beg it as a favor, so that here no one, even though I know not how worthy, should make me an exaggerator. My torment would be an ill reward; I wish belief."
"I believe you," answered the king.
"Truth itself was in his words," added Marya Ludvika. "I am not deceived in men."
"Gracious King and Queen, permit. Let some man go aside with me, for it would be grievous for me to live here in suspicion."
"I will go," said Pan Tyzenhauz, a young attendant of the king. So saying, he conducted Kmita to another room, and on the way said to him, "I do not go because I do not believe you, for I believe; but to speak with you. Have we met somewhere in Lithuania? I cannot remember your name, for it may be that I saw you when a youth, and I myself was a youth then?"
Kmita turned away his face somewhat to hide his sudden confusion.
"Perhaps at some provincial diet. My late father took me with him frequently to see public business."
"Perhaps. Your face is surely not strange to me, though at that time it had not those scars. Still see how memoria fragilis est (weak memory is); also it seems to me you had a different name."
"Years dull the memory," answered Pan Andrei.
They went to another room. After a while Tyzenhauz returned to the royal pair.
"He is roasted, Gracious King, as on a spit," said he; "his whole side is burned."
When Kmita in his turn came back, the king rose, pressed his head, and said,
"We have never doubted that you speak the truth, and neither your pain nor your services will pass unrewarded."
"We are your debtors," added the queen, extending her hand to him.
Pan Andrei dropped on one knee and kissed with reverence the hand of the queen, who stroked him on the head like a mother.