“Do so, Michael, do so, for otherwise it would not be well,” said Pan Yan.
“I will do so.”
So saying, Pan Michael took the baton from Zagloba’s hands, drew up the squadron for marching, and moved with his comrades to the head of it.
“And where shall we go?” asked Zagloba.
“To tell the truth, I don’t know myself, for I have not thought of that,” answered Pan Michael.
“It is worth while to deliberate on what we should do,” said Mirski, “and we must begin at once. But may I be permitted first to give thanks to Pan Zagloba in the name of all, that he did not forget us in straits and rescued us so effectually?”
“Well,” said Zagloba, with pride, raising his head and twisting his mustache. “Without me you would be in Birji! Justice commands to acknowledge that what no man can think out, Zagloba thinks out. Pan Michael, we were in straits not like these. Remember how I saved you when we were fleeing before the Tartars with Helena?”
Pan Michael might have answered that in that juncture not Zagloba saved him, but he Zagloba; still he was silent, and his mustache began to quiver. The old noble spoke on—
“Thanks are not necessary, since what I did for you today you certainly would not fail to do for me tomorrow in case of need. I am as glad to see you free as if I had gained the greatest battle. It seems that neither my hand nor my head has grown very old yet.”
“Then you went straightway to Upita?” asked Volodyovski.
“But where should I go—to Kyedani?—crawl into the wolf’s throat? Of course to Upita; and it is certain that I did not spare the horse, and a good beast he was. Yesterday early I was in Upita, and at midday we started for Birji, in the direction in which I expected to meet you.”
“And how did my men believe you at once? For, with the exception of two or three who saw you at my quarters, they did not know you.”
“To tell the truth, I had not the least difficulty; for first of all, I had your ring, Pan Michael, and secondly, the men had just learned of your arrest and the treason of the hetman. I found a deputation to them from Pan Mirski’s squadron and that of Pan Stankyevich, asking to join them against the hetman, the traitor. When I informed them that you were being taken to Birji, it was as if a man had thrust a stick into an anthill. Their horses were at pasture; boys were sent at once to bring them in, and at midday we started. I took the command openly, for it belonged to me.”
“But, father, where did you get the bunchuck?” asked Pan Yan. “We thought from a distance that you were the hetman.”
“Of course, I did not look worse than he? Where did I get the bunchuck? Well, at the same time with the deputations from the resisting squadrons, came also Pan Shchyt with a command to the Lauda men to march to Kyedani, and he brought a bunchuck to give greater weight to the command. I ordered his arrest on the spot, and had the bunchuck borne above me to deceive the Swedes if I met them.”
“As God lives, he thought all out wisely!” cried Oskyerko.
“As Solomon!” added Stankyevich.
Zagloba swelled up as if he were yeast.
“Let us take counsel at once as to what should be done,” said he at last. “If it is agreeable to the company to listen to me with patience, I will tell what I have thought over on the road. I do not advise you to commence war with Radzivill now, and this for two reasons: first, because he is a pike and we are perches. It is better for perches never to turn head to a pike, for he can swallow them easily, but tail, for then the sharp scales protect them. May the devil fix him on a spit in all haste, and baste him with pitch lest he burn overmuch.”
“Secondly?” asked Mirski.
“Secondly,” answered Zagloba, “if at any time, by any fortune, we should fall into his hands, he would give us such a flaying that all the magpies in Lithuania would have something to scream about. See what was in that letter which Kovalski was taking to the Swedish commandant at Birji, and know the voevoda of Vilna, in case he was unknown to you hitherto.”
So saying, he unbuttoned his vest, and taking from his bosom a letter, gave it to Mirski.
“Pshaw! it is in German or Swedish,” said the old colonel. “Who can read this letter?”
It appeared that Pan Stanislav alone knew a little German, for he had gone frequently to Torun (Thorn), but he could not read writing.
“I will tell you the substance of it,” said Zagloba. “When in Upita the soldiers sent to the pasture for their horses, there was a little time. I gave command to bring to me by the locks a Jew whom everyone said was dreadfully wise, and he, with a sabre at his throat, read quickly all that was in the letter and shelled it out to me. Behold the hetman enjoined on the commandant at Birji, and for the good of the King of Sweden directed him, after the convoy had been sent back, to shoot every one of us, without sparing a man, but so to do it that no report might go abroad.”
All the colonels began to clap their hands, except Mirski, who, shaking his head, said—
“It was for me who knew him marvellous, and not find a place in my head, that he would let us out of Kyedani. There must surely be reasons to us unknown, for which he could not put us to death himself.”
“Doubtless for him it was a question of public opinion.”
“Maybe.”
“It is wonderful how venomous he is,” said
