“Be welcome!” said Ketling. “I was alarmed. How is it with the nuns?”
“All is well,” answered the little knight. “Not one bomb has burst there. The place is very quiet and safe.”
“Thank God for that! But Krysia is not alarmed?”
“She is as quiet as if at home. She and Basia are in one cell, and Pan Zagloba is with them. Pan Adam, to whom consciousness has returned, is here too. He begged to come with me to the castle; but he is not able to stand long on his feet yet. Ketling, go there now, and I will take your place here.”
Ketling embraced Pan Michael, for his heart drew him greatly to Krysia, and gave command to bring his horse at once. But before they brought the horse, he inquired of the little knight what was to be heard in the town.
“The inhabitants are quenching the fire very bravely,” answered the little knight; “but when the wealthier Armenian merchants saw their goods burning, they sent deputations to the bishop and insisted on surrender. Hearing of this, I went to the council, though I had promised myself not to go there again. I struck in the face the man who insisted most on surrender: for this the bishop rose in anger against me. The situation is bad, brother; cowardice is seizing people more and more, and our readiness for defence is for them cheaper and cheaper. They give blame and not praise, for they say that we are exposing the place in vain. I heard too that they attacked Makovetski because he opposed negotiations. The bishop himself said to him, ‘We are not deserting faith or king; but what can further resistance effect? See,’ said he, ‘what will be after it—desecrated shrines, honorable ladies insulted, and innocent children dragged captive. With a treaty,’ said he, ‘we can assure their fate and obtain free escape.’ So spoke the bishop. The starosta nodded and said, ‘I would rather perish, but this is true.’ ”
“The will of God be done!” said Ketling.
But Pan Michael wrung his hands. “And if that were even true,” cried he, “but God is witness that we can defend ourselves yet.”
Now they brought Ketling’s horse. He mounted quickly.
“Carefully through the bridge,” said Pan Michael at parting, “for the bombs fall there thickly.”
“I will return in an hour,” said Ketling; and he rode away.
Pan Michael started to go around the walls with Mushalski. In three places hammering was heard; hence the besieged were throwing hand-grenades from three places. On the left side of the castle Lusnia was directing that work.
“Well, how is it going with you?” inquired Volodyovski.
“Badly, Pan Commandant,” said the sergeant: “the pig-bloods are sitting in the cliff, and only sometimes at the entrance does a piece of shell hurt a man. We haven’t done much.”
In other places the case was still worse, especially as the sky had grown gloomy and rain was falling, from which the wicks in the grenades were growing damp. Darkness too hindered the work.
Pan Michael drew Mushalski aside somewhat, and halting, said on a sudden, “But listen! If we should try to smother those moles in their burrows?”
“That seems to me certain death, for whole regiments of janissaries are guarding them. But let us try!”
“Regiments are guarding them, it is true; but the night is very dark, and confusion seizes them quickly. Just think, they are talking of surrender in the town. Why? Because, they say to us, ‘There are mines under you; you are not defending yourselves.’ We should close their lips if tonight we could send the news, ‘There is no longer a mine!’ For such a cause is it worth while to lay down one’s head or not?”
Pan Mushalski thought a moment, and cried, “It is worth while! As God lives, it is!”
“In one place they began to hammer not long ago,” said Pan Michael; “we will leave those undisturbed, but here and on that side they have dug in very deeply. Take fifty dragoons; I will take the same number; and we will try to smother them. Have you the wish?”
“I have, and it is increasing. I will take spikes in my belt to spike cannon; perhaps on the road I may find some.”
“As to finding, I doubt that, though there are some falconets standing near; but take the spikes. We will only wait for Ketling; he knows better than others how to succor in a sudden emergency.”
Ketling came as he had promised; he was not behind time one moment. Half an hour later two detachments of dragoons, of fifty men each, went to the breach, slipped out quickly, and vanished in the darkness. Ketling gave command to throw grenades for a short time yet; then he ceased work and waited. His heart was beating unquietly, for he understood well how desperate the undertaking was. A quarter of an hour passed, half an hour, an hour: it seemed that they ought to be there already and to begin; meanwhile, putting his ear to the ground, he heard the quiet hammering perfectly.
Suddenly at the foot of the castle, on the left side, there was a pistol-shot, which in the damp air, in view of the firing from the trenches, did not make a loud report, and might have passed without rousing the attention of the garrison had not a terrible uproar succeeded it. “They are there,” thought Ketling; “but will they return?” And then sounded the shouts of men, the roar of drums, the whistle of pipes—finally the rattle of musketry, hurried and very irregular. The Turks fired from all sides and in throngs;
