“Of course!” said Pan Nyenashinyets. “I know Krychinski personally, and all know him now from his evil fame.”
“We were at school together—” began Pan Zagloba; but he stopped suddenly, remembering that in such an event Krychinski must be ninety years old, and at that age men were not usually fighting.
“Speaking briefly,” continued the little knight, “Krychinski is a Polish Tartar. He was a colonel of one of our Tartar squadrons; then he betrayed his country and went over to the Dobrudja horde, where he has, as I hear, great significance, for there they hope evidently that he will bring over the rest of the Tartars to the Pagan side. With such a man Mellehovich has entered into relations, the best proof of which is this letter, the tenor of which is as follows.” Here the little knight unfolded the letter, struck the top of it with his hand, and began to read:—
Brother Greatly Beloved of my Soul—Your messenger came to us and delivered—
“He writes Polish?” interrupted Zagloba.
“Krychinski, like all our Tartars, knows only Russian and Polish,” said the little knight; “and Mellehovich also will surely not gnaw in Tartar. Listen, gentlemen, without interruption.”
—and delivered your letter. May God bring about that all will be well, and that you will accomplish what you desire! We take counsel here often with Moravski, Aleksandrovich, Tarasovski, and Groholski, and write to other brothers, taking their advice too, touching the means through which that which you desire may come to pass most quickly. News came to us of how you suffered loss of health; therefore I send a man to see you with his eyes and bring us consolation. Maintain the secret carefully, for God forbid that it should be known prematurely! May God make your race as numerous as stars in the sky!
Volodyovski finished, and began to cast his eyes around on those present; and since they kept unbroken silence, evidently weighing the gist of the letter with care, he said: “Tarasovski, Moravski, Groholski, and Aleksandrovich are all former Tartar captains, and traitors.”
“So are Poturzynski, Tvorovski, and Adurovich,” added Pan Snitko. “Gentlemen, what do you say of this letter?”
“Open treason! there is nothing here upon which to deliberate,” said Pan Mushalski. “He is simply conspiring with Mellehovich to take our Tartars over to their side.”
“For God’s sake! what a danger to our command!” cried a number of voices. “Our Tartars too would give their souls for Mellehovich; and if he orders them, they will attack us in the night.”
“The blackest treason under the sun!” cried Pan Deyma.
“And the hetman himself made that Mellehovich a captain!” said Pan Mushalski.
“Pan Snitko,” said Zagloba, “what did I say when I looked at Mellehovich? Did I not tell you that a renegade and a traitor were looking with the eyes of that man? Ha! it was enough for me to glance at him. He might deceive all others, but not me. Repeat my words, Pan Snitko, but do not change them. Did I not say that he was a traitor?”
Pan Snitko thrust his feet back under the bench and bent his head forward, “In truth, the penetration of your grace is to be wondered at; but what is true, is true. I do not remember that your grace called him a traitor. Your grace said only that he looked out of his eyes like a wolf.”
“Ha! then you maintain that a dog is a traitor, and a wolf is not a traitor; that a wolf does not bite the hand which fondles him and gives him to eat? Then a dog is a traitor? Perhaps you will defend Mellehovich yet, and make traitors of all the rest of us?”
Confused in this manner, Pan Snitko opened his eyes and mouth widely, and was so astonished that he could not utter a word for some time.
Meanwhile Pan Mushalski, who formed opinions quickly, said at once, “First of all, we should thank the Lord God for discovering such infamous intrigues, and then send six dragoons with Mellehovich to put a bullet in his head.”
“And appoint another captain,” added Nyenashinyets. “The reason is so evident that there can be no mistake.”
To which Pan Michael added: “First, it is necessary to examine Mellehovich, and then to inform the hetman of these intrigues, for as Pan Bogush from Zyembitse told me, the Lithuanian Tartars are very dear to the marshal of the kingdom.”
“But, your grace,” said Pan Motovidlo, “a general inquiry will be a favor to Mellehovich, since he has never before been an officer.”
“I know my authority,” said Volodyovski, “and you need not remind me of it.”
Then the others began to exclaim, “Let such a son stand before our eyes, that traitor, that betrayer!”
The loud calls roused Zagloba, who had been dozing somewhat; this happened to him now continually. He recalled quickly the subject of the conversation and said: “No, Pan Snitko; the moon is hidden in your escutcheon, but your wit is hidden still better, for no one could find it with a candle. To say that a dog, a faithful dog, is a traitor, and a wolf is not a traitor! Permit me, you have used up your wit altogether.”
Pan Snitko raised his eyes to heaven to show how he was suffering innocently, but he did not wish to offend the old man by contradiction; besides, Volodyovski commanded him to go for Mellehovich; he went out, therefore, in haste, glad to escape in that way. He returned soon, conducting the young Tartar, who evidently knew nothing yet of the seizure of Krychinski’s messenger. His dark and handsome face had become very pale, but he was in health and did not even bind his head with a kerchief; he merely covered it with a Crimean cap of red velvet. The eyes
