Here Pan Mushalski stopped, and began to remove something from around his eyes with his fingers. A moment of silence followed; but the cold north wind whistled from between the beams, and in the room the fire hissed and the crickets chirped. Then Pan Mushalski panted, drew a deep breath, and continued:—
“The Lord God, as will appear, blessed us and showed us His favor; but at the time we paid bitterly for our brotherly feeling. While we were embracing, we entangled the chains so that we could not untangle them. The overseers came and extricated us, but the lash whistled above us for more than an hour. They beat us without looking where. Blood flowed from me, flowed also from Didyuk; the two bloods mingled and went in one stream to the sea. But that is nothing! it is an old story—to the glory of God!
“From that time it did not come to my head that I was descended from the Samnites, and Didyuk a peasant from Byalotserkov, recently ennobled. I could not have loved my own brother more than I loved him. Even if he had not been ennobled, it would have been one to me—though I preferred that he should be a noble. And he, in old fashion, as once he had returned hatred with interest, now returned love. Such was his nature.
“There was a battle on the following day. The Venetians scattered to the four winds the Turkish fleet. Our galley, shattered terribly by a culverin, took refuge at some small desert island, simply a rock sticking out of the sea. It was necessary to repair it; and since the soldiers had perished, and hands were lacking, the officers were forced to unchain us and give us axes. The moment we landed I glanced at Didyuk; but the same thing was in his head that was in mine. ‘Shall it be at once?’ inquired he of me. ‘At once!’ said I; and without thinking further, I struck the chubachy on the head; and Didyuk struck the captain. After us others rose like a flame! In an hour we had finished the Turks; then we repaired the galley somehow, took our seats in it without chains, and the Merciful God commanded the winds to blow us to Venice.
“We reached the Commonwealth on begged bread. I divided my estate at Yaslo with Didyuk, and we both took the field again to pay for our tears and our blood. At the time of Podhaytse Didyuk went through the Saitch to join Sirka, and with him to the Crimea. What they did there and what a diversion they made, you, gentlemen, know.
“On his way home Didyuk, sated with vengeance, was killed by an arrow. I was left; and as often as I stretch a bow, I do it for him, and there are not wanting in this honorable company witnesses to testify that I have delighted his soul in that way more than once.”
Here Pan Mushalski was silent, and again nothing was to be heard but the whistling of the north wind and the crackling of the fire. The old warrior fixed his glance on the flaming logs, and after a long silence concluded as follows:—
“Nalevaiko and Loboda have been; Hmelnitski has been; and now Doroshenko has come. The earth is not dried of blood; we are wrangling and fighting, and still God has sown in our hearts some seeds of love, and they lie in barren ground, as it were, till under the oppression and under the chain of the Pagan, till from Tartar captivity, they give fruit unexpectedly.”
“Trash is trash!” said Zagloba, waking up suddenly.
XXV
Mellehovich was regaining health slowly; but because he had taken no part in expeditions and was sitting confined to his room, no one was thinking of the man. All at once an incident turned the attention of all to him.
Pan Motovidlo’s Cossacks seized a Tartar lurking near the stanitsa in a certain strange manner, and brought him to Hreptyoff. After a strict examination it came out that he was a Lithuanian Tartar, but of those who, deserting their service and residence in the Commonwealth, had gone under the power of the Sultan. He came from beyond the Dniester, and had a letter from Krychinski to Mellehovich.
Pan Michael was greatly disturbed at this, and called the officers to council immediately. “Gracious gentlemen,” said he, “you know well how many Tartars, even of those who have lived for years immemorial in Lithuania and here in Russia, have gone over recently to the horde, repaying the Commonwealth for its kindness with treason. Therefore we should not trust any one of them too much, and should follow their acts with watchful eye. We have here too a small Tartar squadron, numbering one hundred and fifty good horse, led by Mellehovich. I do not know this Mellehovich from of old; I know only this, that the hetman has made him captain for eminent services, and sent him here with his men. It was a wonder to me, too, that no one of you gentlemen knew him before his entrance into service, or heard of him. This fact, that our Tartars love him greatly and obey him blindly, I explained by his bravery and famous deeds; but even they do not know whence he is, nor who he is. Relying on the recommendation of the hetman, I have not suspected him of anything hitherto, nor have I examined him, though he shrouds himself in a certain secrecy. People have various fancies; and this is nothing to me, if each
