“Thank you for the confidence. But your highness is mistaken. I am not a servant of the Radzivills.”
Boguslav opened his eyes widely. “What are you?”
“I am a colonel of the hetman, not of the castle; and besides I am the hetman’s relative.”
“A relative?”
“I am related to the Kishkis, and the hetman is born of a Kishki.”
Prince Boguslav looked for a while at Kmita, on whose face a light flush appeared. All at once he stretched forth his hands and said—
“I beg your pardon, cousin, and I am glad of the relationship.”
The last words were uttered with a certain inattentive though showy politeness, in which there was something directly painful to Pan Andrei. His face flushed still more, and he was opening his mouth to say something hasty, when the door opened and Harasimovich appeared on the threshold.
“There is a letter for you,” said Boguslav.
Harasimovich bowed to the prince, and then to Pan Andrei, who gave him the letter.
“Read it!” said Prince Boguslav.
Harasimovich began to read—
“Pan Harasimovich! Now is the time to show the good will of a faithful servant to his lord. As whatever money you are able to collect, you in Zabludovo and Pan Pjinski in Orel—”
“The confederates have slain Pan Pjinski in Orel, for which reason Pan Harasimovich has taken to his heels,” interrupted the prince.
The under-starosta bowed and read further—
“—and Pan Pjinski in Orel, even the public revenue, even the excise, rent—”
“The confederates have already taken them,” interrupted Boguslav again.
“—send me at once,” continued Harasimovich. “If you can mortgage some villages to neighbors or townspeople, obtaining as much money on them as possible, do so, and whatever means there may be of obtaining money, do your best in the matter, and send the money to me. Send horses and whatever effects there are in Orel. There is a great candlestick too, and other things—pictures, ornaments, and especially the cannons on the porch at my cousins; for robbers may be feared—”
“Again counsel too late, for these cannons are going with me,” said the prince.
“If they are heavy with the stocks, then take them without the stocks and cover them, so it may not be known that you are bringing them. And take these things to Prussia with all speed, avoiding with utmost care those traitors who have caused mutiny in my army and are ravaging my estates—”
“As to ravaging, they are ravaging! They are pounding them into dough,” interrupted the prince anew.
“—ravaging my estates, and are preparing to move against Zabludovo on their way perhaps to the king. With them it is difficult to fight, for they are many; but if they are admitted, and given plenty to drink, and killed in the night while asleep (every host can do that), or poisoned in strong beer, or (which is not difficult in that place) a wild crowd let in to plunder them—”
“Well, that is nothing new!” said Prince Boguslav. “You may journey with me, Pan Harasimovich.”
“There is still a supplement,” said the under-starosta. And he read on,
“The wines, if you cannot bring them away (for with us such can be had nowhere), sell them quickly—”
Here Harasimovich stopped and seized himself by the head—
“For God’s sake! those wines are coming half a day’s road behind us, and surely have fallen into the hands of that insurgent squadron which was hovering around us. There will be a loss of some thousands of gold pieces. Let your highness give witness with me that you commanded me to wait till the barrels were packed in the wagons.”
Harasimovich’s terror would have been still greater had he known Pan Zagloba, and had he known that he was in that very squadron. Meanwhile Prince Boguslav smiled and said—
“Oh, let the wines be to their health! Read on!”
“—if a merchant cannot be found—”
Prince Boguslav now held his sides from laughter. “He has been found,” said he, “but you must sell to him on credit.”
“—but if a merchant cannot be found,” read Harasimovich, in a complaining voice, “bury it in the ground secretly, so that more than two should not know where it is; but leave a keg in Orel and one in Zabludovo, and those of the best and sweetest, so that the officers may take a liking to it; and put in plenty of poison, so that the officers at least may be killed, then the squadron will break up. For God’s sake, serve me faithfully in this, and secretly, for the mercy of God. Burn what I write, and whoso finds out anything send him to me. Either the confederates will find and drink the wine, or it may be given as a present to make them friendly.”
The under-starosta finished reading, and looked at Prince Boguslav, as if waiting for instructions; and the prince said—
“I see that my cousin pays much attention to the confederates; it is only a pity that, as usual, he is too late. If he had come upon this plan two weeks ago, or even one week, it might have been tried. But now go with God, Pan Harasimovich; I do not need you.”
Harasimovich bowed and went out.
Prince Boguslav stood before the mirror, and began to examine his own figure carefully; he moved his head slightly from right to left, then stepped back from the mirror, then approached it, then shook his curls, then looked askance, not paying any attention to Kmita, who sat in the shade with his back turned to the window.
But if he had cast even one look at Pan Andrei’s face he would have seen that in the young envoy something wonderful was taking place; for Kmita’s face was pale, on his forehead stood thick drops of sweat, and his hands shook convulsively. After a while he rose from the chair, but sat down again immediately, like a man struggling with himself and suppressing an outburst of anger or despair. Finally his features settled and became fixed; evidently he
