Hence, there hung everywhere over the whole settlement bloody memories; hence, here and there were blackened ruins, and from the walls of the half-destroyed castle seemed to gaze white faces of slaughtered Poles and Cossacks. Basia was daring, but she feared ghosts; it was said that in Yampol itself, at the mouth of the Shumilovka, and on the neighboring cataracts of the Dniester, great wailing was heard at midnight and groans, and that the water became red in the moonlight as if colored with blood. The thought of this filled Basia’s heart with bitter alarm. She listened, in spite of herself, to hear in the still night, in the sounds of the cataract, weeping and groans. She heard only the prolonged “watch call” of the sentries. Then she remembered the quiet room in Hreptyoff, her husband, Pan Zagloba, the friendly faces of Pan Nyenashinyets, Mushalski, Motovidlo, Snitko, and others, and for the first time she felt that she was far from them, very far, in a strange region; and such a homesickness for Hreptyoff seized her that she wanted to weep. It was near morning when she fell asleep, but she had wonderful dreams. Burlai, the cutthroats, the Tartars, bloody pictures of massacre, passed through her sleeping head; and in those pictures she saw continually the face of Azya—not the same Azya, however, but as it were a Cossack, or a wild Tartar, or Tugai Bey himself.
She rose early, glad that night and the disagreeable visions had ended. She had determined to make the rest of the journey on horseback—first, to enjoy the movement; second, to give an opportunity for free speech to Azya and Eva, who, in view of the nearness of Rashkoff, needed, of course, to settle the way of declaring everything to old Pan Novoveski, and to receive his consent. Azya held the stirrup with his own hand; he did not sit, however, in the sleigh with Eva, but went without delay to the head of the detachment, and remained near Basia.
She noticed at once that again the cavalry were fewer in number than when they came to Yampol; she turned therefore to the young Tartar and said, “I see that you have left some men in Yampol?”
“Fifty horse, the same as in Mohiloff,” answered Azya.
“Why was that?”
He laughed peculiarly; his lips rose as those of a wicked dog do when he shows his teeth, and he answered only after a while.
“I wished to have those places in my power, and to secure the homeward road for your grace.”
“If the troops return from the steppes, there will be forces there then.”
“The troops will not come back so soon.”
“Whence do you know that?”
“They cannot, because first they must learn clearly what Doroshenko is doing; that will occupy about three or four weeks.”
“If that is the case you did well to leave those men.”
They rode a while in silence. Azya looked from time to time at the rosy face of Basia, half concealed by the raised collar of her mantle and her cap, and after every glance he closed his eyes, as if wishing to fix that charming picture more firmly in his mind.
“You ought to talk with Eva,” said Basia, renewing the conversation. “You talk altogether too little with her; she knows not what to think. You will stand before the face of Pan Novoveski soon; alarm even seizes me. You and she should take counsel together, and settle how you are to begin.”
“I should like to speak first with your grace,” said Azya, with a strange voice.
“Then why not speak at once?”
“I am waiting for a messenger from Rashkoff; I thought to find him in Yampol. I expect him every moment.”
“But what,” said Basia, “has the messenger to do with our conversation?”
“I think that he is coming now,” said the Tartar, avoiding an answer. And he galloped forward, but returned after a while. “No; that is not he.”
In his whole posture, in his speech, in his look, in his voice, there was something so excited and feverish that unquietude was communicated to Basia; still the least suspicion had not risen in her head yet. Azya’s unrest could be explained perfectly by the nearness of Rashkoff and of Eva’s terrible father; still, something oppressed Basia, as if her own fate were in question. Approaching the sleigh, she rode near Eva for a number of hours, speaking with her of Rashkoff, of old Pan Novoveski, of Pan Adam, of Zosia Boski, finally of the region about them, which was becoming a wilder and more terrible wilderness. It was, in truth, a wilderness immediately beyond Hreptyoff; but there at least a column of smoke rose from time to time on the horizon, indicating some habitation. Here there were no traces of man; and if Basia had not known that she was going to Rashkoff, where people were living, and a Polish garrison was stationed, she might have thought that they were taking her somewhere into an unknown desert, into strange lands at the end of the world.
Looking around at the country, she restrained her horse involuntarily, and was soon left in the rear of the sleighs and horsemen. Azya joined her after a while; and since he knew the region well, he began to show her various places, mentioning their names.
This did not last very long, however, for the earth
