Soroka rode at his side; three others behind, leading a horse. Soon they found themselves on the square filled by Boguslav’s troops. There was movement among them already; evidently the command had come to prepare for the road. The horsemen were tightening the girths of the saddle and bridling the horses; the infantry were taking their muskets, stacked before the houses; others were attaching horses to wagons.
Kmita started as it were from meditation.
“Hear me, old man,” said he to Soroka; “from the starosta’s house does the road go on—it will not be necessary to come back through the square?”
“But where are we going, Colonel?”
“To Dembova.”
“Then we must go from the square past the house. The square will be behind us.”
“It is well,” said Kmita.
“Oh, if only those men were alive now! Few are fitted for work like this—few!”
Meanwhile they passed the square, and began to turn toward the starosta’s house, which lay about one furlong and a half farther on, near the roadside.
“Stop!” cried Kmita, suddenly.
The soldiers halted, and he turned to them. “Are you ready for death?” asked he, abruptly.
“Ready!” answered in chorus these daredevils of Orsha.
“We crawled up to Hovanski’s throat, and he did not devour us—do you remember?”
“We remember!”
“There is need to dare great things today. If success comes, our gracious king will make lords of you—I guarantee that! If failure, you will go to the stake!”
“Why not success?” asked Soroka, whose eyes began to gleam like those of an old wolf.
“There will be success!” said three others—Biloüs, Zavratynski, and Lubyenyets.
“We must carry off the prince marshal!” said Kmita. Then he was silent, wishing to see the impression which the mad thought would make on the soldiers. But they were silent too, and looked on him as on a rainbow; only, their mustaches quivered, and their faces became terrible and murderous.
“The stake is near, the reward far away,” added Kmita.
“There are few of us,” muttered Zavratynski.
“It is worse than against Hovanski,” said Lubyenyets.
“The troops are all in the market-square, and at the house are only the sentries and about twenty attendants,” said Kmita, “who are off their guard, and have not even swords at their sides.”
“You risk your head; why should we not risk ours?” said Soroka.
“Hear me,” continued Kmita. “If we do not take him by cunning, we shall not take him at all. Listen! I will go into the room, and after a time come out with the prince. If the prince will sit on my horse, I will sit on the other, and we will ride on. When we have ridden about a hundred or a hundred and fifty yards, then seize him from both sides by the shoulders, and gallop the horses with all breath.”
“According to order!” answered Soroka.
“If I do not come out,” continued Kmita, “and you hear a shot in the room, then open on the guards with pistols, and give me the horse as I rush from the door.”
“That will be done,” answered Soroka.
“Forward!” commanded Kmita.
They moved on, and a quarter of an hour later halted at the gate of the starosta’s house. At the gate were six guards with halberds; at the door of the anteroom four men were standing. Around a carriage in the front yard were occupied equerries and outriders, whom an attendant of consequence was overseeing—a foreigner, as might be known from his dress and wig.
Farther on, near the carriage-house, horses were being attached to two other carriages, to which gigantic Turkish grooms were carrying packs. Over these watched a man dressed in black, with a face like that of a doctor or an astrologer.
Kmita announced himself as he had previously, through the officer of the day, who returned soon and asked him to the prince.
“How are you, Cavalier?” asked the prince, joyfully. “You left me so suddenly that I thought scruples had risen in you from my words, and I did not expect to see you again.”
“Of course I could not go without making my obeisance.”
“Well, I thought: the prince voevoda has known whom to send on a confidential mission. I make use of you also, for I give you letters to a number of important persons, and to the King of Sweden himself. But why armed as if for battle?”
“I am going among confederates; I have heard right here in this place, and your highness has confirmed the report, that a confederate squadron passed. Even here in Pilvishki they brought a terrible panic on Zolotarenko’s men, for a famed soldier is leading that squadron.”
“Who is he?”
“Pan Volodyovski; and with him are Mirski, Oskyerko, and the two Skshetuskis—one that man of Zbaraj, whose wife your highness wanted to besiege in Tykotsin. All rebelled against the prince voevoda; and it is a pity, for they were good soldiers. What is to be done? There are still fools in the Commonwealth who are unwilling to pull the red cloth with Cossacks and Swedes.”
“There is never a lack of fools in the world, and especially in this country,” said the prince. “Here are the letters; and besides, when you see his Swedish grace, say as if in confidence that in heart I am as much his adherent as my cousin, but for the time I must dissemble.”
“Who is not forced to that?” answered Kmita. “Every man dissembles, especially if he thinks to do something great.”
“That is surely the case. Acquit yourself well, Sir Cavalier, I will be thankful to you, and will not let the hetman surpass me in rewarding.”
“If the favor of your highness is such, I ask reward
