In every event there was time enough; and even if there were not, Pan Michael would not have been greatly averse to rubbing against some chambuls in a way which for them would be equally painful and memorable.
He was a soldier, blood and bone—a soldier by profession; hence the approach of a war roused in him thirst for the blood of his enemy, and brought to him calmness as well. Pan Zagloba was less calm, though inured beyond most men to great dangers in the course of his long life. In sudden emergencies he found courage; he had developed it besides by long though often involuntary practice, and had gained in his time famous victories; still, the first news of coming war always affected him deeply. But now when the little knight explained his own view, Zagloba gained more consolation, and even began to challenge the whole Orient, and to threaten it.
“When Christian nations war with one another,” said he, “the Lord Jesus Himself is sad, and all the saints scratch their heads, for when the Master is anxious the household is anxious; but whoso beats the Turk gives Heaven the greatest delight. I have it from a certain spiritual personage that the saints simply grow sick at sight of those dog brothers; and thus heavenly food and drink does not go to their profit, and even their eternal happiness is marred.”
“That must be really so,” answered the little knight. “But the Turkish power is immense, and our troops might be put on the palm of your hand.”
“Still, they will not conquer the whole Commonwealth. Had Carolus Gustavus little power? In those times there were wars with the Northerners and the Cossacks and Rakotsi and the Elector; but where are they today? Besides, we took fire and sword to their hearths.”
“That is true. Personally I should not fear this war, because, as I said, I must do something notable to pay the Lord Jesus and the Most Holy Lady for their mercy to Basia; only God grant me opportunity! But the question for me is this country, which with Kamenyets may fall into Pagan hands easily, even for a time. Imagine what a desecration of God’s churches there would be, and what oppression of Christian people!”
“But don’t talk to me of the Cossacks! The ruffians! They raised their hands against the mother; let that meet them which they wished for. The most important thing is that Kamenyets should hold out. What do you think, Michael, will it hold out?”
“I think that the starosta of Podolia has not supplied it sufficiently, and also that the inhabitants, secure in their position, have not done what behooved them. Ketling said that the regiments of Bishop Trebitski came in very scant numbers. But as God lives, we held out at Zbaraj behind a mere wretched trench, against great power; we ought to hold out this time as well, for that Kamenyets is an eagle’s nest.”
“An eagle’s nest truly; but it is unknown if an eagle is in it, such as was Prince Yeremi, or merely a crow. Do you know the starosta of Podolia?”
“He is a rich man and a good soldier, but rather careless.”
“I know him; I know him! More than once have I reproached him with that; the Pototskis wished at one time that I should go abroad with him for his education, so that he might learn fine manners from me. But I said: ‘I will not go because of his carelessness, for never has he two straps to his boot; he was presented at court in my boots, and morocco is dear.’ Later, in the time of Marya Ludovika, he wore the French costume; but his stockings were always down, and he showed his bare calves. He will never reach as high as Prince Yeremi’s girdle.”
“Another thing, the shopkeepers of Kamenyets fear a siege greatly; for trade is stopped in time of it. They would rather belong even to the Turks, if they could only keep their shops open.”
“The scoundrels!” said Zagloba.
And he and the little knight were sorely concerned, over the coming fate of Kamenyets; it was a personal question concerning Basia, who in case of surrender would have to share the fate of all the inhabitants.
After a while Zagloba struck his forehead: “For God’s sake!” cried he, “why are we disturbed? Why should we go to that mangy Kamenyets, and shut ourselves up there? Isn’t it better for you to stay with the hetman, and act in the field against the enemy? And in such an event Basia would not go with you to the squadron, and would have to go somewhere besides Kamenyets—somewhere far off, even to Pan Yan’s house. Michael, God looks into my heart and sees what a desire I have to go against the Pagans; but I will do this for you and Basia—I will take her away.”
“I thank you,” said the little knight. “The whole case is this: if I had not to be in Kamenyets, Basia would not insist; but what’s to be done when the hetman’s command comes?”
“What’s to be done when the command comes? May the hangman tear all the commands! What’s to be done? Wait! I am beginning to think quickly. Here it is: we must anticipate the command.”
“How is that?”
“Write on the spot to Pan Sobieski, as if reporting news to him, and at the end say that in the face of the coming war you wish, because of the love which you bear him, to be near his person and act in the field. By God’s wounds, this is a splendid thought! For, first of all, it is impossible that they will shut up such a partisan as you behind a wall, instead of using him in the field; and secondly, for such a letter the hetman will
