Here he turned to Roh Kovalski, who straightway stepped forth from behind Pan Zagloba, and said, with a ringing, stentorian voice—
“Uncle never lies!”
And, puffing, Pan Roh rolled his eyes over the audience, as if seeking the insolent man who would dare to gainsay him.
But no one ever gainsaid him. Then Zagloba began to tell of his old-time victories—how during the life of Konyetspolski he had caused victory twice over Gustavus Adolphus, how in later times he staggered Hmelnitski, how he acted at Zbaraj, how Prince Yeremi relied on his counsels in everything, how he confided to him the leadership in sorties.
“And after each sortie,” said ho, “when we had spoiled five or ten thousand of the ruffians, Hmelnitski in despair used to butt his head against the wall, and repeat, ‘No one has done this but that devil of a Zagloba!’ and when it came to the treaty of Zborovo, the Khan himself looked at me as a wonder, and begged for my portrait, since he wished to send it as a gift to the Sultan.”
“Such men do we need now more than ever,” said the hearers.
And since many had heard besides of the marvellous deeds of Zagloba, accounts of which were travelling over the whole Commonwealth, and since recent events in Kyedani, such as the liberation of the colonels, and the battle with the Swedes at Klavany, confirmed the old opinion concerning the man—his glory increased still more; and Zagloba walked in it, as in the sunlight, before the eyes of all men, bright and radiant beyond others.
“If there were a thousand such men in the Commonwealth, it would not have come to what it has!” said the soldiers.
“Let us thank God that we have even one among us.”
“He was the first to proclaim Radzivill a traitor.”
“And he snatched honorable men from his grasp, and on the road he so pommelled the Swedes at Klavany that a witness of their defeat could not escape.”
“He won the first victory!”
“God grant, not the last!”
Colonels like Jyromski, Kotovski, Yakub Kmita, and Lipnitski looked also on Zagloba with great respect. They urged him to their quarters, seizing him from one another by force; and his counsel was sought in everything, while they wondered at his prudence, which was quite equal to his bravery.
And just then they were considering an important affair. They had sent, it is true, deputies to the voevoda of Vityebsk, asking him to come and take command; but since no one knew clearly where the voevoda was at that moment, the deputies went away, and as it were fell into water. There were reports that they had been taken by Zolotarenko’s parties, which came as far as Volkovysk, plundering on their own account.
The colonels at Byalystok therefore decided to choose a temporary leader who should have management of all till the arrival of Sapyeha. It is not needful to say that, with the exception of Volodyovski, each colonel was thinking of himself.
Then began persuading and soliciting. The army gave notice that it wished to take part in the election, not through deputies, but in the general circle which was formed for that purpose.
Volodyovski, after advising with his comrades, gave strong support to Jyromski, who was a virtuous man and important; besides, he impressed the troops by his looks, and a senatorial beard to his girdle. He was also a ready and experienced soldier. He, through gratitude, recommended Volodyovski; but Kotovski, Lipnitski, and Yakub Kmita opposed this, insisting that it was not possible to select the youngest, for the chief must represent before the country the greatest dignity.
“But who is the oldest here?” asked many voices.
“Uncle is the oldest,” cried suddenly Roh Kovalski, with such a thundering voice that all turned toward him.
“It is a pity that he has no squadron!” said Yahovich, Jyromski’s lieutenant.
But others began to cry: “Well, what of that? Are we bound to choose only a colonel? Is not the election in our power? Is this not free suffrage? Any noble may be elected king, not merely commander.”
Then Pan Lipnitski, as he did not favor Jyromski, and wished by all means to prevent his election, raised his voice—
“As true as life! You are free, gracious gentlemen, to vote as may please you. If you do not choose a colonel, it will be better; for there will be no offence to any man, nor will there be jealousy.”
Then came a terrible uproar. Many voices cried, “To the vote! to the vote!” but others, “Who here is more famous than Pan Zagloba? Who is a greater knight? Who is a more experienced soldier? We want Pan Zagloba! Long life to him! Long life to our commander!”
“Long life to Pan Zagloba! long life to him!” roared more and more throats.
“To the sabres with the stubborn!” cried the more quarrelsome.
“There is no opposition! By acclamation!” answered crowds.
“Long life to him! He conquered Gustavus Adolphus! He staggered Hmelnitski!”
“He saved the colonels themselves!”
“He conquered the Swedes at Klavany!”
“Vivat! vivat! Zagloba dux! Vivat! vivat!”
And throngs began to hurl their caps in the air, while running through the camp in search of Zagloba.
He was astonished, and at the first moment confused, for he had not sought the office. He wanted it for Pan Yan, and did not expect such a turn of affairs. So when a throng of some thousands began to shout his name, his breath failed him, and he became as red as a beet. Then his comrades rushed around him; but in their enthusiasm they interpreted everything in a good sense, for seeing his confusion they fell to shouting—
“Look at him! he blushes like a maiden! His modesty is equal to his manhood! Long life to him, and may he lead us to victory!”
Meanwhile the colonels also came up—glad, not glad; they congratulated him on his office, and perhaps some were even glad that it had missed their rivals. Pan Volodyovski merely moved his mustaches somewhat, he was not
