One evening it seemed evident that I was dying. A great yellow candle was placed near my bed; then I saw Father Ludvik in his vestments. He gave me the sacrament, then he put the holy oil on me, and after that he sobbed so that he came near losing consciousness. They carried my mother out in a faint. Kazio was howling at the wall and tearing his hair. My father was sitting with clasped hands; he was just as if petrified. I saw all of this perfectly, but was perfectly indifferent; and I looked as usual with dead, glassy eyes on the ceiling, on the edge of the bed or the foot of it, or at the window, through which were coming in milky and silvery bundles of moonlight.
Then, through all doors, the servants began to push into the room, crying, sobbing, and howling. Kazio led them in, and they filled the whole room; but my father sat there as stony as before. At last when all had knelt down, the priest began the Litany, but stopped, for he could not go on from tears. My father sprang up suddenly, and bellowing, "O Jesus! O Jesus!" threw himself his whole length on the floor.
At that moment I felt that the points of my toes and my feet were beginning to grow cold; a certain wonderful drowsiness seized me, and a yawning. "Ah! now I am dying!" thought I, and fell asleep.
But instead of dying I fell asleep really, and slept so well that I did not wake till twenty-four hours later, and so greatly strengthened that I was unable to understand what had happened. My indifference had vanished; my powerful young constitution had conquered death itself, and was roused to new life and new forces. Now again there were such scenes of delight at my bed that I shall not attempt to describe them. Kazio was simply frantic from happiness.
They told me later that immediately after the duel, when my father carried me wounded to the house, and the doctor could not answer for my life, they had to shut up the honest Kazio, for he was simply hunting Selim like a wild beast, and he swore that if I died he would shoot the Tartar at sight. Fortunately Selim too was wounded somewhat, and had to lie a time in bed.
But now every day brought me new solace. My desire for life returned. My father, my mother, the priest, and Kazio watched day and night above my bed. How I loved them then; how I yearned for them when they left the room! But with life the old feeling for Hania began to speak in my heart again. When I woke from that sleep which all had considered at first an eternal one, I asked straightway for Hania. My father answered that she was well; but that she had gone with Pani d'Yves and my little sisters to his brother's, for the small-pox was increasing in the village. He told me, moreover, that he had forgiven her, that he had forgotten everything, and asked me to be quiet.
I spoke frequently of her afterward with mother, who, seeing that that subject occupied me more than all others, began herself a conversation, and finished it with the kindly though indefinite words that when I got well she would speak with my father of many things which to me would be very agreeable, but that I must be quiet and try to recover as quickly as possible.
While saying this, she smiled sadly, but I wished to weep from delight. Once something happened in the house which disturbed my peace, and even filled me with fear. In the evening, when my mother was sitting near me, the serving-man Franek came in and asked her to Hania's room.
I sat up immediately in bed. "Has Hania come?" I asked.
"No!" answered my mother. "She has not come. He asks me to Hania's room, for they are painting there and putting on new paper."
At times it seemed to me that a heavy cloud and an ill-concealed sadness lay on the foreheads of the persons surrounding me. I had no knowledge of what was passing, and my inquiries were set aside somehow. I asked Kazio; he answered as did others, that in the house all was well; that our little sisters, Pani d'Yves, and Hania would return soon; and, finally, that I must be quiet.
"But where does this sadness come from?" asked I.
"Seest thou, I will tell thee all. Selim and the old Mirza come here every day. Selim is in despair whole days. He cries; he wants absolutely to see thee; and our mother and father are afraid that this visit would harm thee."
"Wise Selim," said I, smiling, "he came near splitting my skull, and now he is crying for me. Well, is he thinking of Hania all the time?"
"How could he have Hania in his head? I know not. For that matter, I did not ask; but I think that he has renounced her altogether."
"That is a question."
"In every case some one else will get her; be at rest on that point."
Here Kazio made a wry face, student fashion, and added with the mien of a rogue,—
"I know even who. God grant only that—"
"That what?"
"That she return as soon as possible," added he, hurriedly.
These words pacified me completely. A couple of days later, in the evening, my father was sitting near me with my mother. He and I began to play chess. After a while mother went out, leaving the door open. Through the door a whole row of rooms was visible; at the end of this row was Hania's room. I looked at it, but I could not see anything, for mine was the only room lighted. Hania's door, so far as I could see in the darkness, was closed.
Then some one went in, as it were Doctor Stanislav, and did not shut the door.
My heart beat unquietly. There was light in Hania's room.
The light fell in a bright column to the dark neighboring hall; and on the background of that clear column it seemed to me that I saw a delicate line of smoke, curling as dust curls in sunlight.
Gradually an indefinable odor struck my nostrils, but an odor which became stronger and stronger every moment. Suddenly the hair rose on my head. I recognized the odor of juniper.
"Father! what is that?" cried I, throwing the chess-men and chess-board on the floor.
My father jumped up, confused, perceiving also that cursed odor of the juniper, and closed the door of the room as quickly as possible.
"That is nothing," said he, hurriedly.
But I was already on my feet; and though I staggered, I pushed quickly toward the door.
"They are burning juniper!" cried I. "I want to go there."
My father caught me by the waist.
"Do not go! do not go! I forbid thee."
Despair seized me; so grasping the bandages around my head, I cried,—
"Well, I swear then that I will tear off these bandages, and open my wounds with my own hands. Hania is dead! I want to see her."
"Hania is not dead. I give thee my word!" cried my father, seizing my hands and struggling with me. "She was sick, but she is better. Calm thyself! Calm thyself! Have we not had misfortune enough already? I will tell thee everything, but lie down. Thou canst not go to her. Thou wouldst destroy her. But lie down; I swear to thee that she is better."
My strength failed me, and I fell on the bed, repeating only,—
"My God! My God!"
"Henryk, come to thyself! Art thou a woman? Be a man. She is no longer in danger. I have promised to tell thee everything, and I will tell it, but on condition that thou collect thy strength. Lay thy head on the pillow. That way. Cover thyself, and be quiet."
I was obedient.
"I am quiet; but more quickly, father, more quickly! Let me know everything right away. Is she really better? What was the matter with her?"
"Listen, then: that night in which Selim took her away there was a storm. Hania wore only a thin dress which got wet to the last thread. Besides, that mad step cost her not a little. In Horeli, where Selim took her, she had no change of clothes, so she returned in that same little wet dress. That very night she got a chill and a violent fever. The next day old Vengrosia could not hold her tongue, and told her about thy trouble. She even said that thou wert killed. Evidently that hurt her. In the evening she was unconscious. The doctor did not know for a long time what the matter was. Thou knowest that small-pox was in the village; it is here yet. Hania caught the small-pox."
I closed my eyes, for it seemed that I was losing consciousness; at last I said,—
"Go on, father, for I am calm."
"There were moments of great danger," continued he. "That same day on which we looked on thee as lost, she too was almost dying. But to both of you a lucky crisis came. To-day she is recovering, as well as thou. In a week or so she will be perfectly well."
"But what happened in the house? Oh, what happened?"
My father was silent and looked at me carefully, as if in fear that his words might have shocked my still feeble mind. I was lying motionless. Silence continued a long time. I was collecting my thoughts and was looking at the new misfortune. My father rose and began to walk with long strides through the room, looking at me from time to time.
"Father," said I, after a long silence.
"What, my boy?"
"Is she—is she—greatly marked?"
My voice was calm and low, but my heart was beating audibly in expectation of the answer.
"Yes," answered my father. "As usual after the small-pox. Maybe there will be no marks. There are marks, now; but they will disappear, of course."
I turned to the wall. I felt that something worse than usual was happening to me.
A week later, however, I was on my feet, and in two weeks I saw Hania. Ah! I will not even attempt to describe what had become of that beautiful, ideal face. When the poor girl came out of her room, and I saw her for the first time, though I had sworn to myself previously that I would not show the least emotion, I became weak and fell into a dead faint. Oh, how terribly marked she was!
When they brought me out of the faint, Hania was weeping aloud, certainly over herself and me, for I too was more like a shadow than a man.
"I am the cause of all this!" repeated she, sobbing; "I am the cause."
"Hania, my dear sister, do not weep; I will love thee always!" and I seized her hands to raise them to my lips as before. Suddenly I shivered and drew back my lips. Those hands, once so white, delicate, and beautiful, were dreadful. They were covered with black spots, and were rough, almost repulsive.
"I will always love thee!" repeated I, with an effort.
I lied. I had immense compassion in my heart, and the tearful love of a brother; but the old feeling had flown away, as a bird flies, without leaving a trace.
I went to the garden; and in that same hop arbor where the first confession had taken place between Selim and Hania, I cried, as after the death of some dear one. In truth, the former Hania had died for me, or rather, my love had died; and in my heart there remained merely emptiness and pain, as if from an incurable wound, and a memory that presses tears from the eyes.
I sat long and long. The quiet autumn evening began to flush in the twilight on the tree-tops. They looked for me in the house; at last my father entered the hop arbor. He looked at me and respected my sorrow.
"Poor boy!" said he, "God has visited thee grievously; trust in Him. He knows always what He does."
I rested my head on my father's breast, and for some time we were both silent.
"Thou wert greatly attached to her," said my father, after a while. "So tell me, if I were to say to thee, Give her thy hand for a lifetime, what wouldst thou answer?"
"Father," replied I, "love may fly from me, but honor never. I am ready."
My father kissed me heartily, and said,—
"May God bless thee! I recognize thee, but it is not thy duty, not thy obligation; it is Selim's."
"Will he come here?"
"He will come with his father. His father knows everything now."
In fact, Selim came about dusk. When he saw Hania, he grew red, and then as pale as linen. For a while a great struggle between his heart and his conscience was evident on his face. It was clear that from him too that winged bird, whose name is love, had flown.
But the noble youth conquered himself. He rose, stretched out his arms, fell on his knees before Hania, and cried,—
"My Hania! I am always the same; I will never desert thee,—never, never!"
Abundant tears were flowing down Hania's face; but she pushed Selim away gently.
"I do not believe, I do not believe that it is possible to love me now," said she; then covering her face with her hands, she cried,—
"Oh, how kind and noble you all are! I alone am less noble, more sinful; but now all is ended. I am another person."
And in spite of the insistence of the old Mirza, in spite of Selim's prayers, she refused her hand.
The first storm of life had broken that beautiful flower when it had barely opened. Poor girl! She needed now after the tempest some holy and peaceful harbor, where she could pacify her conscience, and bring her heart to rest.
She found that quiet and holy harbor. She became a Sister of Charity.
Later on, new events and one terrible storm caused me for a long time to lose sight of her. But after a number of years I saw her unexpectedly. Peace and calm were depicted on those angelic features; all traces of the terrible disease had disappeared. In the black robe and white head-dress of the cloister she was beautiful as never before; but it was a beauty not of earth, beauty more angelic than human.
TARTAR CAPTIVITY.
FRAGMENTS FROM THE CHRONICLE OF A NOBLE, ALEXIS ZDANOBARSKI.
CHAPTER I.
MY attendant, riding in advance, or following, thrummed on his teorban, while sorrow and longing for Marysia pressed my heart; and the farther I went the more ardently I loved her. Then came to my mind the words, post equitem sedet atra cura (behind the horseman sits dark care). But if in the great decrease of my fortune I had spoken with his serene great mightiness, Pan Tvoryanski, I dared not mention my feelings. Nothing was left me but to win a fortune with my sword, and when I had adorned myself with military glory to stand before him. Neither God nor my Marysia could take it ill of me that I did not make the confession to Pan Tvoryanski. If Marysia had commanded me to spring into fire, or into water, or simply to shed my blood, Thou, O Jesus Christ, who lookest into my heart, seest that I would have done so. There was one thing, however, which I could not sacrifice, even for my charming maiden, and that was the honor of a noble. My fortune was nothing; but the dignity of blood is great, and from my ancestors I had received a command, sacred as a last will, to remember ever that my life was my own, that I might expose it to peril, but integra rodu 4 dignitas was an inheritance from my ancestors, which I was bound to hand down as I had received it, that is, integram. O God, grant eternal rest to my ancestors, and may eternal light shine on them for the ages of ages! Even had his serene great mightiness, Tvoryanski, consented to give me his daughter, I had no place to which I might conduct her. If, considering the scantiness of my fortune, he, in his pride, had called me a pauper, or simply a homespun, I, knowing the excellence of my family, should have been insulted and forced to take revenge on him, which may God not permit, since he is the father of my Marysia.
Nothing remained but to go to the frontier. Of trappings, girdles, and what was best after my ancestors, some I pawned, others I sold and received three hundred weighty ducats, which I gave to Tvoryanski on interest; then, taking farewell of Marysia with tears and deep sighing, I prepared for the road during the night, and next morning I and my attendant turned our horses' heads eastward.
The journey was through Zaslav and Bar to Haysynie. Stopping now at a castle, now at a mansion, now at an inn, we came at last to Uman, beyond which the steppe was open before us, level, rich, silent. My attendant, riding in advance, played on the teorban and sang songs. He seemed as if flying before me, the bird, as it were, which I was pursuing, namely, glory; and behind me followed another bird; this was grief. We were going to the stanitsa called Mohylna, where in his day my serene, great, mighty father stood on guard as colonel of an armored squadron which he at his own cost had mounted for war with the Bisurmans. 5
It was very far to Mohylna, for, praise be to God, the Commonwealth has spread itself over the earth widely; and, besides, we had to travel through steppes, on which Tartars and various other ruffians were prowling night and day; a man had to guard his life carefully.
Along the road I marvelled at everything. Since that was my first time in the Ukraine, I saw the strangest deeds and strangest things. That country is warlike; there the common man too is more resolute and daring than with us, and in peasants there is courage of which a noble would not be ashamed. When you pass through a settlement, though people know you to be a man of birth, they hardly raise a cap, and look you straight in the eyes. In every cottage there is a sabre and a musket, and more than one peasant has a hatchet-headed staff in his hand, like a noble in another place. There is a daring nature in these people. They even make small account of commissioners of the Commonwealth; for this the sabre has punished them already, and will punish them more in the future. The vicinity of pagans, and continual readiness for warfare, has developed their courage. They cultivate the earth not too willingly; and if any one wins profit from tillage, he prefers to settle on his own fields rather than on those of a master. On the other hand, they join escorts of nobles, or light squadrons of the Commonwealth readily, and are excellent warriors, especially in scouting and skirmishing, though in battle non cunctant (they are not slow). They raise shouts, and go at the enemy as if they were smoke, cutting and thrusting. Each of their settlements is more like a tabor than a village; they keep multitudes of horses, which feed winter and summer in the steppes, and are as swift as those of the Tartars. Many of these people betake themselves also to the islands of the Dnieper, and there at the Saitch lead a life in the fashion of monks, but military and quite robber-like. From these uncontrolled actions our dear country has suffered much, and will suffer much more in the future, till it tames them. It would be difficult for a noble, or even a great lord, to keep them in one place; for time after time they break away to empty steppes, of which in those regions there are many; they settle in the steppes and live at their own will. In form of body, and in manners, they are different from our peasants; they are tall and strong, dark in complexion, more like Tartars; their mustaches are black, as with the Wallachians; they shave their heads after the fashion of pagans, leaving on the very crown only a tuft, thick and long.
Seeing and considering all this, I wondered greatly at that land and at everything in it; and as I have called it warlike, I repeat now, that a country more suited to an armed and mounted people it would be vain to seek throughout the whole earth. When some of these people are killed, others ride in from all sides and along every road, just as if flocks of birds were flying in; and throughout that wild steppe it is easier to hear the sound of muskets, the clatter of sabres, the neighing of horses, the fluttering of flags in the wind, and the shouts of warriors, than the lark in a meadow.
Old minstrels, greatly honored by every one, go about there as in Podolia and Volynia. These, being blind, play on lyres and sing knightly songs; these minstrels cause courage and love of glory to flourish greatly. Warriors in those regions, seeing that they live to-day and to-morrow decay, esteem their own lives as a broken copper, and spend their blood as a magnate spends gold, caring more for a beautiful death than for life and earthly goods. Others love war above everything, and though often of high birth, they become almost wild in continual fighting, and go to battle as if to a wedding, with great rejoicing and songs. In time of peace they are terribly grieved at not finding an outlet for warlike humors, hence they are dangerous to public peace. These men are called "the desperate." When a warrior is killed, all count that an ordinary occurrence, and even his nearest friends do not mourn overmuch for him, saying that it beseems a man more to die in the steppe, than in bed, like a woman.
Indeed, in that land is the best school and practice of knighthood. When a young regiment has passed one year or two in a stanitsa, it becomes as keen as a Turkish sabre, so that neither German cavalry nor Turkish janissaries can stand before its fury when they are equal in numbers; and what must it be for other inferior soldiers, as, for example, the Wallachians, or any kind of hireling? It is easy to quarrel in the steppe; and this should be avoided, for the whole country is swarming with armed men.
Advancing with my attendant, I met household troops of the Pototskis, the Vishnyevetskis, the Kisiels, the Zbaraskis, in various uniforms, black, red, and many-colored, now quota troops of the Commonwealth, now squadrons of the king. The horses of these warriors advanced to their bellies in grass, and snorted as if swimming in water; captains managed the squadrons, as shepherd dogs tend their flocks; the Cossacks beat kettle-drums, blew their horn trumpets and fifes, or sang songs, making so tremendous an uproar that when they had passed and disappeared the wind brought back a sound, as it were, of some distant storm. At intervals moved also the wagons of bullock-drivers, which squeaked shrilly; from this squeaking our horses were frightened. Some of those bullock-drivers were bringing salt from the Liman at the Euxine; others were returning from among foul pagans at the Palus Maeotis, or from Moscow; others were taking Moldavian wine to the Saitch; and the wagons moved one after another in the order of storks, forming lines a mile long on the steppe.
We met also herds of oxen, all of one color, gray, with great curving horns. Crowding together, they moved so closely as to form a solid mass, their horned foreheads swaying from side to side.
Beyond the stanitsa Kiselova, one company of an important hussar regiment met us. The men were in full equipment, and a sound went from their wings, as from those of eagles. My attendant and I could not take our eyes from them, though it was difficult to look at the men, for the eye was struck by a terrible glare of sunlight reflected from their weapons; the gleams from their lance-points raised upward were like flames of burning candles suspended in the air. But the hearts rose in us, for those hussars seemed more like a company of kings than common warriors, such was the auctoritas (authority) in them, and the majesty of battle.
Beyond the stanitsa the country was wilder. Often in the steppe we saw at night fires of Cossack couriers sent to various stanitsas, or even of peasants who were fleeing to the steppe. We did not approach these, since we made our own fires.
At times strangers came to us, either hungry men, or men gone astray in the steppe; and once came a wonderful person with a face all grown over with hair, like a wolf's face. My attendant began to cry out with fear when he saw him; and I, thinking that I had to do with a werewolf (wolf man), was reaching for my sabre to slash him. When that monster did not howl, but praised God, I would not touch him. The unknown said that he was a Tartar by descent, but a Catholic. I wondered at that, for the Tartars in Lithuania adhere to the Koran. But this man changed his faith for his wife, and, serving later as a flag-bearer in his regiment, was sent by the Lithuanian hetmans with a letter to the horde, because he knew Tartar. Still it was hateful to my man to sleep at one fire with him. More frequently we spent the night sleeping in turns, or not sleeping at all, so as to keep watch of our horses. More than once I stretched on the grass and looked at the twinkling stars of the sky, thinking in my soul that the one which looked on me most lovingly was Marysia. In my grief I had the consolation of knowing that that little star would never shine for another, but would keep faith with me, since it had a heart that was honest, and a soul as pure as a tear dropped in prayer before God.
At times Marysia came to me in sleep, just as if living; and one night when she came she promised to pray for me and to fly after me through the air, like a swallow, and if she grew weary she would rest on my head, and twitter to heaven to obtain for me glory and happiness. Then she vanished like mist; and when I woke I thought that an angel had been near me, and what astonished me also was this, that the horses pricking their ears snorted loudly, as if they had felt some one near them. Considering such apparitions as a mark of God's favor and encouragement in my toil, I vowed to the most Holy Mary and to Saint Alexis, my patron, never to stain myself with mortal sin, so as to retain their favor in the future also. That night I prayed till daylight, or till the time of starting. Generally we were moving on the road before sunrise, which in those regions is altogether more beautiful than with us; for when the first rays shoot along the plain covered with dew from the night cold, the whole steppe, because of the myriads of flowers, looks like brocade interwoven with pearls. From this comes joy to all creatures. Partridges, quails, ptarmigans, and other birds of the steppe, shooting along through the grass, dash those pearls down to the earth.
There are countless myriads of birds in that region. We met every day cunning bustards and slender storks. These last stand on the ground, stretching upward their long necks, like spears, and keep guard in order around the grave mounds; but when they fly through the air, with tremendous outcry, they rise to such heights that the eye cannot follow them. Bullock-drivers respect these birds greatly; for by the order of their flying they bring the holy cross to one's mind. Warriors too, counting them with their sabres, predict fortune from their number; but, according to my reason, this has nothing to do with reality, for whatever the Lord God in His mercy intends for a man, He will give anyhow. Of other birds there are ravens, crows, hawks, and eagles. These creatures at twilight make a great uproar, now sitting in a circle on some mound, now breaking out without cause in a rattling and croaking so immense and complaining that there is need to shut one's ears.
The evening twilights are far redder than with us. The reason of this is that pagans shed much Christian blood there; this blood goes to heaven and is red, crying for vengeance. Grave mounds here cover the whole country, as far as the eye can reach, and in them are lying knights waiting for the day of Judgment. Some say that these knights are only sleeping, and will wake when the campaign shall be heralded of all Christian kings against the pagan. I know not if this be true; but I think that it may happen, for everything is in the power of God.
This is a land of warlike people, a land which Poles, Cossacks, and Tartars, in continual warfare, have trampled with hoofs of horses, one chasing another in arms. And so whole generations are like those figures which appear and disappear in a holiday puppet-show. Many good nobles come here also to live. They bring peasants from the Crown, or, finding them in the place, begin settlements; for though one must lead a life in continual fear of war, the Lord God has given such courage to our people that dangers, instead of frightening them, are rather an enticement. In fact, when a noble youth comes to years, it is difficult to keep him at home, or on the school bench, for he is tearing away, like a falcon, to fly to the border. Many a one loses his life there; but some poor boy comes out a lord, as have many whose children live now in their castles, keep escorts, and enjoy senatorial dignity in the Commonwealth.
It is in accordance with God's thought for a knightly man to become a lord from war and from land, and by settling the steppe to give growth to the Commonwealth. From the Masovians, who are great people to multiply, and who increase like bees in a hive, are descended most of those colonists. They cultivate the steppe with ploughs, and become agriculturists readily; but in time of war they go in a body, one after another, all willing to die.
Thinking over these matters, I rejoiced greatly; for I understood that either I should lie down in battle,—for which a noble, a Christian warrior should always be ready,—and receive a heavenly crown, or, giving notable service to my country, restore to its former splendor my family, and delight my ancestors in paradise. They, too, came to fortune; not by lawsuits at courts, or by uproars at diets, but by blood, the foundation of life; and what they received they received from the Commonwealth, and they did not spare it on behalf of the Commonwealth. Thus my serene, great, mighty grandfather and my father, each of them, fitted out a regiment for war against the Bisurman. May God grant them light eternal in heaven, for it is proper that a fortune which came with the sabre should be spent on the sabre. As to me, though my heart aches for Marysia, and the wind whistles through my purse, I am the heir of a glorious name and great, noble ambition, owing to which I hear at night, as it were, trumpets and voices of some kind, which call to me, "Preserve thy name unspotted; be equal to thy fathers; yield not to evil!" Thou, O God, so bless me, that I shall preserve my name, and be equal to my fathers! I will break before I bend.
And I proposed to myself that if God would grant me to await a time of fortune, and go for Marysia, I would go, not in ticking, but in brocade, not in a torn cap, but in ostrich plumes, not with one attendant, but with an escort and with a baton in my hand, as a lord for a lord's daughter, as a great knight for a senator's child. And then, without detriment to family honor, I would fall at the feet of Tvoryanski, for I should bow to him, not as to a lord for a fortune, but as to a father for his daughter. In poverty I should have consented to yield her, even though my soul were rent; for if through love I hope to make her my wife, I hope in wealth to blow the dust from before her dear feet, not that they should be bare and bleeding on life's thorny path.
Better courage entered my heart in proportion as I let myself deeper into the steppe with my attendant. It is sad in that steppe, for it is empty; but it is so spacious there that it seems to a man that he is yonder eagle or hawk. The grass comes higher and higher along the sides of the horses, as if it were greeting you with honor; and while making a great rustling it seems to say, "Welcome, O warrior of God!" The farther, however, the more dangerous, for Mohylna is the last Christian watchtower; the warrior there takes holy communion daily, so as to be ready for death at all hours.
The Tartars, now in large parties, now singly, circle around that stanitsa, though when a larger number comes, an experienced man knows it easily, as in the night the wolves howl behind them tremendously; for when a great camp of them moves, whole flocks of wolves follow, knowing that in the track of it they will find carrion enough, both of them and their horses. Others are of opinion, however, that wolves do not eat Tartar flesh, being friends of the Tartars, who, because of their greed and foul paganism, may well be compared with wild beasts.
But while prowling around, dreadful things too meet the Tartars; for when Cossacks stationed near the armored squadron of the stanitsa catch one of those pagans, they have no pity, and commit terrible cruelties.
One night, I saw a great fire in the steppe, and people around it. I went toward the place with my attendant, wishing to see who were there, and if God would grant me to let fly a few arrows among them. But they were only Cossacks from the stanitsa, who had made a great fire, and were throwing bound Tartars into it alive, hurling each one as if he were a sack. The Tartars called on their Allah in vain. From those who were roasted a strong odor went out; and the Cossacks, dancing around the fire like evil spirits, gave themselves up to delight. I gave command at once to leave off this work, and slay the prisoners simply with sabres, as was proper; to this they answered,—
"Be off, or the same thing will happen to thee!"
When they learned that I was a noble, they removed their caps; and hearing that I was going to the colonel to serve, they offered to conduct me to the station. We went, then, for the rest of the night, in their company, and without adventure; but on the road I saw one wonder more. At a certain place the steppe was covered completely with glittering insects, like those which about Saint John's day appear with us, but not in such numbers. These glittered in the darkness throughout the grass as far as the eye could see, so that you might say that a part of the sky with the stars had fallen, and was lying on the earth. Only at dawn did those little stars cease to gleam; it was not far then to the stanitsa, as was shown by the crowing of cocks, of which there are many, for the soldiers love their shrill crowing, and keep a great number of them. Soon after, when the air became clearer, we saw in the morning dawn several well-sweeps; the wind bore to us barking of dogs and neighing of horses. When nearer still to the stockade, I heard the song, "Salve janua salutis," which went out over the dew, and was very loud, for three hundred men were singing it, kneeling on the square beneath the open sky.
When I reached the stanitsa, I went at once to the serene, great, mighty Peter Koshyts, a rich nobleman from Lithuania, and a warrior of experience, who was colonel there. He had been so hacked in long campaigning that men said that pagans had written out the whole Koran on his face with their sabres. He was a knight accustomed to every trick of war, and had served the Commonwealth greatly. Having known my father, he received me as if I had been his own son, and inscribed me that very day in the regiment. Others told me later that I had come in good season, for the locusts would soon swarm from the Crimea. In fact, I learned that there was great fear, and the alarm was sounded in every stanitsa; the knighthood was kept in utmost watchfulness.
CHAPTER II.
WE advanced, as usual, without baggage; for a Tartar detachment can be overtaken only in that way. At three in the afternoon, we came to an elevation, called the Pagan Tombs; and by a lucky chance for us, the fog, which since morning had covered all the steppe, dropped down on a sudden. Though we could not see the Tartar camp itself, we knew from noise and the bellowing of cattle which came out of the fog, that it was not far distant. The Cossacks sent forward on reconnoissance, stole up to the very wagons, seized some prisoners with lariats, and brought them in so badly beaten and terrified that, though put to torture at once, blood came from their mouths instead of words. Our voevoda learned from them, however, that that camp was the main one; that the Khan's brother was there present, with many considerable Murzas; and that, excluding Tartars who had care of extra horses, wagons, prisoners, and the wagon train, those who could be employed in battle were only four times greater in number than our troops.
When he had heard this, the voevoda began to draw us up on those heights in order of battle. Delight entered our hearts, for we saw that in the proportion and number of only four to one the Tartars could not withstand our impetus; since the tabor, and the great number of slow cattle, hindered their retreat, they could not flee from our sabres.
They knew too well of our presence, and, having no escape, began also to make ready for battle, in their own way; this we knew at once by the sound of their great drum, which they call "balt," and which they consider sacred, obeying its voice in all things.
All at once the fog thinned so much that most of the horse-tail standards were visible; and next it disappeared altogether. We saw black swarms of pagandom,—horse at the side of horse, and man near man, standing in a dense mass in the form of a sickle. From out this mass skirmishers began to break away in flocks, and race off in various directions. Some of them rushed right up to our squadrons, jeering at us, shouting terribly, waving their hands, and challenging all who were ready for single combat. But the voevoda permitted only Cossacks to go; he wished to bring the line into perfect order, which was done quickly, since he was an old warrior, experienced and very strict.
Standing in readiness for battle, we looked at the skirmishing and the wonderful work of the Cossacks, who know best how to manage duels with those vermin. They chased then for prisoners, and also to kill; but though we watched intently to see the first body fall headlong, we could not distinguish it, for numbers fell together on both sides. The old essaul of the Cossacks dragged to the very feet of the voevoda a Murza; but he was strangled, for he had dragged him six furlongs, and his face was all torn by prickly plants of the steppe. We took that, however, as a good omen; and the voevoda, who was hurried, gave command to strike up with drum and trumpet, and shouted, —
"Begin! begin!"
The horde answered with a tremendous uproar; hearing these sounds, the skirmishers vanished at once from the field, on which the hussars had to meet now, as usual, the entire strength of the enemy.
The whole army stood, as has been said, on the height, ready to rush directly on the pagan; but it pleased the courage of the voevoda to let off in advance, according to old usage, one squadron, like a falcon from the hoop, so that by breaking everything on its path it might spread dismay and disorder in the ranks of the enemy.
We saw that squadron moving under the lead of Babski, as clearly as a thing on the palm of the hand, since in going down gradually from the height it advanced right there close to us. When they had passed the slope, the horses acquired the highest speed, and the ground bent beneath them, the hussars, leaning forward in their saddles, lowered their lances. The air groaned loudly, and such a strong wind from them struck us that the plumes on our helmets were fluttering. So they went forward with a noise from their wings, and the streamers on their lances, just like a storm; and it was clear that whatever opposed them would be rubbed out of existence.
The captains had received command to give no succor till that squadron had cut a road to the rear through the pagans. We gazed on them well, for they ran about five furlongs, and, since they went on grass, the dust was not great. In our squadron, which stood motionless, there was such silence that the buzzing of horse-flies and gnats could be heard. Each man was straining his eyes out after the advancing squadron; at times a horse neighed, or, smelling blood, stretched his neck and, opening his nostrils, groaned plaintively.
In the Tartar camp no small uproar set in among the pagans; they raised the shout, "Allah! Allah!" and soon a cloud of arrows, dense as rain, struck the hussars, rattling on their mail harness. Then came the cry, "Jesus, Mary!" which was a sign that ours would be there soon with their lances. Indeed, with God's help, they arrived and struck with such impetus that the pagans opened in two halves, like a log when a wedge has split it. They went through the middle, as if on a street. Then that street closed behind them, and the throng hid them completely; we saw only a terrible seething, sometimes a helmet gleamed, and sometimes, when a horse reared under a man, we saw an armed hand; then again a streamer flew into the air, like a bird, and dropped down.
On the square of the Tartar camp, where there was no grass, a terrible dust rose, in which there was a struggling and a boiling. The rattle of muskets, the terrible uproar, and the shouts almost split our ears. On our side murmurs began to go about through the squadron, for it was difficult to remain in one place. Men were ready to rush forward; horses were rearing.
We began to repeat the litany for the dying; while doing so, a certain noble youth, instead of saying, "Lord, have mercy on them!" cried, "I see another streamer!" Then the warriors cried in one voice for permission to rush after the others.
A great and unrestrained enthusiasm seized every rank. Sparks flashed from the eyes of some; others, from desire for pagan blood, were as flushed as blushing maidens; still others, who were younger, shed abundant tears, and, stretching their hands upward, cried, "Let us go to help our brothers."
But the colonel commanded great silence threateningly, and said, "It is not proper for knights to strike without command, like some kind of militia, and spoil the patience of knighthood with too great eagerness. If any man stirs, he'll be dragged at a horse's tail!"
We looked now in silence at those who were perishing, and at the whole Tartar camp, which, like a gigantic serpent with iron in its entrails, was twisting and squirming from pain, wishing to smother that squadron which had fastened into its body.
Meanwhile the sun had gone down; the redness of evening was in the sky. But there was no longer need to await the command, for suddenly the second squadron was sent rushing after the first, carrying with it destruction, after that went the third and the fourth. Under this avalanche of armed men and horses the camp began to waver, and it was clear that the foul Mohammed would fall in the dust at the feet of Mary most pure.
Meanwhile the cannon, of which six pieces were drawn up just behind us, began to act with weight and majesty, breaking the ends of the camp with their balls. The captains on our side, according to old custom, rolled up their sleeves, and shook their batons very fiercely; the rage of battle rose to our heads like wine. One and another man cried out the name of his patron; and we heard continually: "Saint Peter! Saint John! Saint Matthew!" Some, neglecting the saints, shouted, "Strike! kill!" I, sinful servant of God, began an ardent prayer, and when I had finished and raised my thoughts to Mary, a miracle happened to me, for all at once a pretty little swallow, flying around above our heads, settled on mine and, clapping its wings, began to repeat, "Tsivit!" just as if praying for me. Hence such a power entered my bones that the hair was rising under my helmet.
The moment had come! An orderly rushed to us from the voevoda and waved the bunchuk standard; then the captains hurried to the ranks; the colonel cried, "In God's name, slay the dog-brothers!"
Our horses rose on their haunches, and next moment the wind whistled in our ears.
We struck the pagans fiercely; unable to atop us, they fell, like grain-stalks trampled under hoofs. We overturned men, horses, tents, pickets. The roaring of cannon outsounded the crash of breaking lances. Horses whined. In the crush, after the breaking of the lances, when new legions fell on us, it came to sabres and two-handed swords. More than one man fought with the stump of his sabre, or drove the soul out of a body with armed fist. Feathers flew into the air from the wings and the helmets of hussars. The air, hot from the meeting of men and horses, stopped the breath in the throats of the combatants.
Now hoarse shouts rose, the groan of trampled men, a whining, a whistling of sabres and arrows. The pagans gave a ferocious resistance; but they had become weak; they were falling ever more thickly, and terror began to seize hold of them. In the uproar and in blindness they could not see whither to flee; therefore, howling, and shielding their faces with their arms, they died under sword blows. Horses, with their riders, crushed down in the furious onset, formed quivering piles, and we rushed over those bodies slippery with blood, cutting through the crowd to the wagons, from which were heard the lament of prisoners, the shrill cry of women, and a calling to Heaven.
The slaughter continued in darkness, until a flame rose from wagons, which the Cossacks had fired. Smoke and sparks burst forth in rolls, and in those sparks and that smoke the cattle in the tabor filled the air with sad bellowing. Then, when the tabor was broken, oxen, sheep, goats, riderless horses, and camels, wild from terror, rushed like a hurricane over the steppe.
The greatest disorder rose at the wagons. Some seized plunder in the uproar; others cut the bonds of captives who, feeling their hands free, broke the burning wagons and struck the enemy with flaming brands. The sobbing of women roused greater rage in the soldiers, so that even those who fell on their faces and stretched their hands out for fetters died beneath the sword.
Considerable detachments which could not break from the tabor, though they howled, imploring mercy, were cut to pieces. After those who fled from defeat went pursuers, and with them I hurried forward. Whole crowds fled before one man; hands grew weary with hewing; feet slipped in blood; the breath stopped in the breasts of horses. In the darkness we cut at random. At last the horse under me, throwing blood from his mouth, fell on the grass; next moment a dream, as it were, seized me, for blood gushed from me in a stream. I sat down to commend myself to God, or the most holy Lady, when the steppe went around, the bright stars began to dance in the sky, and I fainted.
CHAPTER III.
A PAGAN, according to our language, is a beast as it were, or an unclean dog; for what is unclean among men is displeasing to God. And though the Bisurmans call themselves better than Christians, in the depth of their conscience they know their uncleanness and strive eagerly to wash it away, pouring water on their members seven times daily; they would have no need to do this, of course, were they less hardened in sin. With no people is captivity so grievous, because of their cruelty, and because there are neither churches nor Catholic priests in the midst of them. If a prisoner falls into mortal sin, being unable to find absolution at death, he may be damned easily. They treat prisoners with cruelty, too, as is shown by what I suffered. They have a festival which they call "Bimekbairon," before which they fast a whole month. To conceal his own vileness with appearances of justice, Mohammed, their prophet, commanded them to shorten on this day the period of captivity for prisoners, to give freedom to those who have served out their time, and declare to all others how long they must serve in the future, and besides keep their promises under oath. The oath must be uttered two hours after midnight, when their priest is on the tower, or, if there is no tower, when he goes out on a mound and begins to cry with his fingers in his ears: Lai Lacha i Lalach Mohammed Rossulach esse de Miellai, Lala i Lalach! They swear then on books called Hamaeli, at the bottom of which is depicted the sabre of Ali, the assistant of Mohammed,—this sabre they call Delfikari. If they swear on one of these volumes to any one, they will keep the oath surely; but they are so skilled in deceit, that they deceive not only their captives but their god, by swearing on books made of Venetian soap. Such an oath, they say, will be washed away by the first rain that comes, hence it is not possible to believe them.
They sell prisoners into Asia, which is quite another part of the world; those who remain behind, they send to herd flocks; when at work they beat these with raw-hides, and kill them with hunger. Being fond of idleness themselves, they barely rise up to perform ablutions; and for the rest of the day sit on horse-skulls covered with carpets, hold their hands idly across their stomachs, bend now to the right, now to the left. But they are very fond of music and the sound of flutes, and sit listening whole days to whistles. Putting two of these whistles in the mouth, they play on them, fingering as on a flute. Besides, they have drums covered with horsehide, cymbals, bronze disks which make a great clatter, and long staffs ornamented with horse manes and covered with little bells. When they play on these instruments, such a din rises that the dogs howl; but they themselves are delighted, and say that sweetness comes to their ears from the noise, and that various diseases fly away before those voices.
There is great drunkenness among the Tartars, for though not free to drink wine, they fill themselves with mare's milk fermented, which goes to the head more than wine. And then being angry and cruel, they kill prisoners, after they have tortured them.
Of Christian nations the Genoese and Venetians visit them in ships, and deal in various places which were built by the ancients, that is, the Greeks. These Christians bring, above all, parchment lamps of various colors, which the Tartars fill with mutton fat; then lighting these lamps, they hang them on graves and mosques in endless number, and burn incense. These lights, white, rosy, green, and blue, seem suspended in the night air, and afford a wonderful spectacle, which, were it turned to God's praise, might delight every eye. But just at that time they permit the greatest vileness.
Their priests are also sorcerers, and communicate with evil spirits. When the Tartars go to rob and plunder, these priests make the nights dark for them, and raise great fogs in the daytime, so that their camp may escape pursuit.
There are not so many people at Perekop, and in the whole Chersonesus, as we in the Commonwealth imagine; but all are employed in warfare, not merely the nobles. They are very enduring of hunger, cold, and toil, for from youth they go naked, from which cause their skin becomes black. In battle, they cannot stand before armed men, therefore their warfare consists more in stratagem than bravery, and in attacking, seizing, and escaping with all speed. Especially at sight of armored men they lose heart, saying that there is no power even in sorcery to stop their impetus. Any hussar squadron will destroy in battle with the Tartars four or five times its own number. They have less fear of death than of captivity among Cossacks; but for them it is easier to meet the Cossack than it is to meet us. I think that the Commonwealth, if so minded, might easily conquer the whole Crimea, if we were in alliance with Venice, which would send its fleet to the Euxine, and thus not let the Turks come with assistance. But there are people, it seems, among us who prefer skirmishing on the steppes to the safety of the Commonwealth; such men would not be glad should this happen. God enlighten them in their blindness.
The mode of living and manners of the Tartars are beastly; and with their management, or rather indolence, they would die of hunger were it not for robbery, which brings them great riches. To robbery they owe the wealth which I saw among them: such as countless herds of cattle, fat sheep, playful goats, swift horses, and camels. Under tents, or in straggling stone villages, some keep their gold brocade, belts, horse trappings, goblets, carpets, inlaid weapons, spices, and perfumes, all piled in heaps, without order. They make no use of these treasures, fearing that they might have to give the Khan some of them, or some to the Turks to whom they are subject. They go about in coats of sheep-skin with the wool outside. But what any one has he hides, and says that he is rich, for which reason others respect him. Of towns built by them I have not heard; but those which exist are from remote periods. The Chersonesus was densely inhabited of old, until its towns and inhabitants were destroyed by various pagans. Still certain places have remained rather large and very beautiful; but the inhabitants lead a barbarous life, just as in filthy camping places.
They took me, with a number of others, to a certain settlement called Kizlich, at the very shore of the Euxine, where a small salt stream trickles into deep water. Houses there are built from the ruins of a city destroyed, as those people say, by Sauromati. But some of the buildings are beautiful though much broken. In old times there were temples; into these now the Tartars drive sheep and horses at night; only one have they turned into a mosque.
They dig from the ground too at times stone figures formed as skilfully as if they were living. Tartar children sit on the heads of these, or break their limbs with stones. Those children also threw dust and dirt at me, and called me "Gaur! gaur!" But I endured that patiently, all the more since Aga Sukyman, which in our speech means Solomon, is præfectus of this town; he it was who found me in a faint and took me captive. At first he treated me decently. He did this because, finding handsome armor on my body, and an inlaid sabre, he considered me a notable person and expected a large ransom.
I, thinking it improper for a noble even in captivity to dissimulate, denied out of hand. I told him that though of distinguished family I had no fortune, and that no one would come for me with ransom. Not believing this, he, in his cunning, said to me in Russian,—
"Oh, you Poles! each man of you calls himself a poor fellow, and does not promise ransom, so that he may be put to death; for this you promise yourselves great delight in heaven from your God."
He did not sell me into Asia, like many others; and having almost perfect liberty, I went daily to the seashore. There, sitting on the rocks, I gazed into the distance of the water, which was as blue as turquoise, and gave rein to my thoughts. Ofttimes I cried bitterly; for well I understood that my fate was settled by misfortune now, and sealed. I could not think of knightly service to the country, nor of glory, nor Marysia. Hence sadness seized my soul; suffering gnawed into my heart; and there came on me terrible yearning for the Commonwealth, and all that I had lost in it. I would rather not have come into the world, I would rather have perished in battle, I would rather Sukyman had given me to torture at once, for then at least I should have received the palm, and seen with the eyes of my spirit that which I yearned for in my body. In pain I saw not the end of my suffering.
Every Friday, which is Sunday for the Tartars, when other prisoners had rest from their labors, we sat at the stream, and, helping one another to weep, we often sang the psalm: Super flumina Babylonis. Thus the day passed for us in remembering and speaking of our country, and from this our souls received no little solace. It happened that among the prisoners who bore the yoke of captivity in Kizlich I was the only noble; hence I exercised a certain rule over the others; I strengthened their spirit, so that not one might be found who should wish to lighten his misfortune by deserting the true faith. In fact, God did not permit that.
Having among the Tartars importance by reason of the expected ransom, I tried to bring some relief to other captives. Sometimes I succeeded in giving part of my food to the hungriest; sometimes I helped them in their labor. I carried water to the thirsty, not making it a discredit to myself; for if the Lord Jesus made common people inferior in birth and blood, He promised them a crown in heaven, and thereby made them our younger brothers, to whom protection and defence is due from the knightly order.
On their part, these captives kissed my hands with humility; and though I told them that I was only a captive like them, and that the hour might come in which they would see me in greater suffering and debasement than they were in at that time, they would not believe this, and said,—
"For God's sake! that will not be."
But I knew that that would be when Sukyman grew tired of waiting in vain for the ransom; and I prepared for the worst that could happen to the body, since the soul, having lost happiness, was in pain and torture already.
In fact, Sukyman came one day to me, and said:
"Thou doest ill to repay my favor with ingratitude. I treat thee like a guest, and thou art living in stubbornness; see then lest I bend thee under my knee."
Here he declared his plans at once, and asked me to write to the Commonwealth for a thousand gold ducats, for which I should receive freedom. I could not do this: first, because I had only three hundred, and but little interest had accrued; second, I feared that Pan Tvoryanski might, through his great liberality, pay for me out of his own purse, which was opposed to my ambition. But when the Lord sent terror into my bones in view of Sukyman's anger, I said, so as to put off the time of torment, that I must be obedient to his will. I gave him a letter; but it was to a priest, an acquaintance whom I had near Kamenets. Describing my captivity, I begged him to implore aid for me, which could come from God only.
Delighted in his greed, Sukyman sent that letter by Tartars going to the fair at Suchava, to which place attendants are sent by our magnates for sweetmeats.
Sukyman was more cordial now than before, and invited me to his house, which was the most beautiful in Kizlich. He was a rich pagan, and greatly respected, as well for his bravery as his good fortune, which had withheld favor from him only in one thing, and that was, that from many wives he had no son, but five daughters. The eldest of these, Illa, he loved much for her beauty. I happened often to see her; for the Tartars do not keep their women in seclusion as the Turks do, and do not force them to cover their faces. When Illa came to the table, she looked at me first with fear and curiosity, as at some wonder. Afterward, when her native wildness was tamed, she would put a vessel of fermented milk to my lips without saying a word, or a ball of rice and mutton, as a sign of her favor. Sukyman not only did not oppose this, but did the like himself, for as we met every day he took a great fancy to me, and frequently persuaded me to throw aside sadness. Through my influence, the other prisoners too were more comfortable, since Illa provided all kinds of food for them plentifully.
Therefore they loved her; and when she came to the cistern they kissed her garments, calling her their patroness. That pagan girl had not only a fair countenance, but a tender heart; so that often I was sorry to think that she must be damned for the errors of her faith. To me she showed more and more affection. She would sit crouched in a corner of the room, and, winding a silk cloth around her head, look whole hours at me in silence, her eyes gleaming like a cat's eyes. I asked her one day why she looked at me in that way. Putting her hand to her forehead, her lips, and her breast, she bent to my feet, and replied,—
"Dear one, I wish to be thy captive."
Then she ran away. Sinful desires fell on me, against which I had to seek defence in ardent prayer. That same day Sukyman came and said to me,—
"Thou didst deceive me with thy letter, therefore I ought to kill thee; but since Allah has not blessed me with sons, I take pity on thy youth and thy beauty. Therefore I tell thee that if thou wilt reject the errors of thy faith and receive our Prophet, I will give thee Illa, who loves thee, and will make thee my son; all that I have will be thine."
At first I could not let the breath out of my mouth from mighty astonishment; but when I recovered, I answered that Satan tempted Christ, showing Him various kingdoms from a mountain-top.
Enraged at these words, he roared like a wild beast; he ordered me to take off the clothes which I wore. When I did this, a Kalmuck captive brought a hempen shirt to me, and Sukyman commanded me fiercely to carry water to the cattle.
It was on Monday, I remember, when I had to begin that labor. I went up the stream, which was salt at the seaside; I took leather bags, and drawing water carried it and poured it into a stone cistern. Tartar women, who went to the stream to wash clothes, set dogs at me. In the evening I did not go to the village as formerly, but lay down to sleep among camels. Because I was wearied, God sent me sleep right away; later I woke on a sudden, and saw some slender figure coming toward me in the moonlight. I made the sign of the cross, thinking it a ghost; but it was Illa, who brought a dish of water, and olive oil. Then, washing my feet and anointing them, she sat near by on the straw, and looked as before at me, in silence, while great silver drops were flowing from her eyelids.
"Illa," asked I, "why hast thou come here?"
She whispered quietly, showing her moist lids in the moonlight,—
"Dear one, why hast thou despised me?"
From weeping she could say no more. The heart in me was moved toward that maiden, and I wanted to gather her to my bosom; but white Marysia stood before me, and the sinful thought flew away. I told Illa that I could not be her husband, if only because of her faith, which in my eyes was for the soul of a man what foul rust is for iron; but that I could give her more than anything which might come from others, that is, the holy cross, which would cleanse her from original sin, and secure her salvation. In her blindness she could not find vision; and, seizing her head with both hands, in great despair, she went away as she had come to me.
The next day I returned to my labor, which was the more oppressive because they gave me to eat sparingly. I met Sukyman, also.
"I will bend thee," said he.
"Thou wilt bend only my body," answered I; "for know that, being a noble, I have a soul that is unbending."
When he heard this, he went away gnashing his teeth. Thus did God punish me for that deceitful letter; if I had not written it, I should not have roused Sukyman against me so savagely because I had rejected his daughter.
On Friday the captives came as usual to meditate, to sing mournful songs, and wash their wounds. Seeing me in my debasement, they fell at my feet with earnest weeping, crying that my dignity had been disgraced. But I did not think so; Christ, though of kingly race, suffered still greater contempt, wishing by that to show the estate of nobles that the worth of honorable blood is stained, not by suffering, but by the dread of it. The prisoners, hearing of the conditions which Sukyman offered me, cried,—
"Oh, pretend to receive the Prophet; do so only for appearance' sake, and you will not lose your soul. When son of the powerful Sukyman, you will bring comfort to yourself and to us, for we shall be your captives."
I told them if that was their counsel, they must be near unto dogs, for they were defiling their lips with barking against the Lord God, not understanding that it is improper to incline, even apparently, before the false prophet. Then they said,—
"We shall all lose our lives here;" and they were in despair.
God has refused honor to people without birth, and made them more regardful of temporal profit.
Hearing of this, the præfectus Sukyman became very angry, and determined to bend me with hunger. He did not wish to kill, or to sell me; for he himself had long loved me, and could not kill me because of Illa, who, as I learned afterward, clung to her father's garments when he made threats against my life, and with great entreaties she restrained him, in the hope that my mind would change soon, in accord with her wishes.
Then times of great affliction came to me, and the foreseen hour of suffering struck. But when I thought of my fathers, of the glory and the untarnished name which they left me, great strength entered my heart. I thought only of this, not to bring disgrace by anything in captivity to the order of nobles, the dignity of which I carried there in myself, and which is the foundation of the Commonwealth. Sukyman, wishing that I should degrade myself, said,—
"Thou mayest eat with dogs, and take what is thrown to them."
Unwilling to do that, I ate only locusts, which I found on the sea shore. Frequently also food was placed near me by some unseen hand, in which I suspected Illa. But later on they watched her, and she could not continue; other women, Tartar witches, not only had no compassion for me, but once they so beat me with sticks that my whole body was blue. If locusts were lacking, I suffered hunger. Sometimes the captives brought me figs gathered in the Tartar gardens; but when I saw that they received blows for so doing, I commanded them to stop. They looked at me with tears, repeating,—
"Our lord, to what has it come with thee!"
Slavery, not only my own, but that of others, became more severe; for the Tartars flamed up with great hatred against us. One poor Cossack, named Fedko, was impaled on a stake, where he died on the second day afterward, repeating, "O Christ! O Christ!" In the night we removed him from the stake and buried him in the sand by the sea, begging God for a death equally beautiful. Surely that Father who existed before the ages ennobled Fedko in heaven, covered him with purple, and raised him to the highest glory.
I was thinking to part soon with my earthly covering, for it was a month since I had begun to eat locusts, which now were scarcer and scarcer in the sand. I had grown terribly emaciated and black, and my legs were tottering under me. When I had filled the bags in the stream, I carried them with groaning, until at last, sitting down in the camel yard, next to the garden, I could go no farther. Then those beasts, whose hearts were better than those of the pagans, stretched out their bent necks through the hurdle fence to me, and, snorting, took pity on my suffering.
But once in the night, while half sleeping, I saw Illa again; she brought water and food to me. Because of great weakness, I slept in the daytime as well; and God, in His mercy, sent me dreams about my dear country. Marysia came to me too, all in white, with angel's wings on her shoulders; with these she shaded my head from the heat. She came always at midday, in great heat; and toward evening, when I was weakest, I heard singing coming from heaven. I was unconscious perhaps for a time, for I saw not the light of earth; but afterward health returned to me, for I saw again new piles of straw, the enclosure for the camels, and the heads of those beasts raised toward the sky.
A certain time Sukyman, coming near me, said,—
"Learn the power of the servants of the Prophet!"
To which I answered, "Learn that of a servant of Christ."
Meanwhile a festival came. The Tartars, when night fell, took those Venetian lamps which I have mentioned, and ornamented the whole place with them; then each man, holding a light in his hand, went out on the road, and they marched on in crowds. That was at the time of the full moon. They cried in loud voices to their God and Prophet, for they have a custom to walk and pray the whole night. They gave great alms also on that day; captives were sitting in rows along the road; and what any one asked for in food or in clothing he received. The years of service were shortened for some; and a certain Essaul, who had dragged a Tartar child out of the water, received liberty, for it is mean to refuse what is lawful on that day. Hence there was great joy among the captives, for no one suffered hunger or received blows, or was punished with death. Sukyman walked past the straw where I was lying, and at his side went Illa; but very haughtily, for she did not look at me, but taking a barley cake from a basket she threw it toward me, while looking in the opposite direction. A Kalmuck captive, sitting near, seized the cake. Sukyman thought that I would ask as well as others, and he would not have refused me. But, though I had not taken anything in my mouth for a long time, I did not think it befitting a noble to stretch out his hand with common people, and I chose to stifle with wind the hunger which was gnawing my entrails. Sukyman said then to others,—
"Indeed, this captive has an iron soul; we should entreat him to have pity on himself, for he puts his own pride above everything."
The pagan did not know that just then my soul had placed itself in the dust, and in the greatest weakness before the Lord, for my suffering was almost stronger than I was. But in the night some one placed food near me again. When I had eaten this eagerly, I felt stronger, and dragged myself at once from the camel yard; and, though my hands and feet were trembling, I began to carry water again to the cistern. Of locusts, too, God sent an abundance during the days which succeeded. Meanwhile hunger taught me to eat ugly things of the sea, which, though vile in form, are not bad. I lived then like a bird from day to day, and when I walked along the sea shore each wave brought to my feet those poor snails, making a noise with them as with nutshells.
The nights began to be very cold. Other prisoners were permitted to go to the village. I had to sleep on my straw; but the compassionate camels lay around me, warming me with their breath and bodies. I thought that I should not endure the cold, and that was my one hope; I had no other before me. Ah! dear mother, dear country, how I yearned for thee, and for thee, my maiden, whom I did not see, but did not cease to love, and desired all the more,—desired like water in heat, like bread in hunger, like death in torture!
Still Providence watches in many ways over those whom it tries; for had it not been for the misery and contempt in which I was living, Sukyman might have sold me to Tsargrad or Galata, where there are great markets for slaves; but now, because of that misery, no one would take me at any price, as I was more like a dying man, or a Lazarus, than a knight. Not to mention that merely a filthy shirt covered my naked limbs, my leanness had made me a skeleton, and besides abundant hair had grown out on my face and head; the skin which had cracked on all my body was covered with scabs and red spots from the camels. Some thought me a leper, and even among captives I began to rouse disgust. But I offered up for my sins my body, a vain covering, which, like every garment, tears and falls into rags; for only two things are lasting, the immortal soul and honor, which, based upon birth, is its principal quality, just as brightness is that of stars in the sky.