“Just as darkness is not afraid of a torch,” said Pani Korf, simpering and posing, “until the torch burns in it.”
Boguslav laughed, and Pani Korf talked on without ceasing to pose—
“Duels concern soldiers more, but we ladies would be glad to hear of your love affairs, tidings of which have come to us.”
“Untrue ones, my lady benefactress, untrue—they have all merely grown on the road. Proposals were made for me, of course. Her Grace, the Queen of France was so kind—”
“With the Princess de Rohan,” added Yanush.
“With another too—De la Forse,” added Boguslav; “but even a king cannot command his own heart to love, and we do not need, praise be to God, to seek wealth in France, hence there could be no bread out of that flour. Graceful ladies they were, ’tis true, and beautiful beyond imagination; but we have still more beautiful, and I need not go out of this hall to find such.”
Here he looked long at Olenka, who, feigning not to hear, began to say something to the sword-bearer; and Pani Korf raised her voice again—
“There is no lack here of beauties; still there are none who in fortune and birth could be the equal of your highness.”
“Permit me, my benefactress, to differ,” responded Boguslav, with animation; “for first I do not think that a Polish noble lady is inferior in any way to a Rohan or De la Forse; second, it is not a novelty for the Radzivills to marry a noble woman, since history gives many examples of that. I assure you, my benefactress, that that noble lady who should become Radzivill would have the step and precedence of princesses in France.”
“An affable lord!” whispered the sword-bearer to Olenka.
“That is how I have always understood,” continued Boguslav, “though more than once have I been ashamed of Polish nobles, when I compare them with those abroad; for never would that have happened there which has happened in this Commonwealth—that all should desert their king, nay, even men are ready to lay in wait for his life. A French noble may permit the worst action, but he will not betray his king—”
Those present began to look at one another and at the prince with astonishment. Prince Yanush frowned and grew stern; but Olenka fixed her blue eyes on Boguslav’s face with an expression of admiration and thankfulness.
“Pardon, your highness,” said Boguslav, turning to Yanush, who was not able yet to recover himself, “I know that you could not act otherwise, for all Lithuania would have perished if you had followed my advice; but respecting you as older, and loving you as a brother, I shall not cease to dispute with you touching Yan Kazimir. We are among ourselves, I speak therefore what I think. Our insufficiently lamented king, good, kind, pious, and doubly dear to me—I was the first of Poles to attend him when he was freed from durance in France. I was almost a child at the time, but all the more I shall never forget him; and gladly would I give my blood to protect him, at least from those who plot against his sacred person.”
Though Yanush understood Boguslav’s game now, still it seemed to him too bold and too hazardous for such a trifling object; therefore without hiding his displeasure he said—
“In God’s name, of what designs against the safety of our ex-king are you speaking? Who cherishes them, where could such a monster be found among the Polish people? True as life, such a thing has not happened in the Commonwealth since the beginning of the world.”
Boguslav hung his head.
“Not longer than a month ago,” said he, with sadness in his voice, “on the road between Podlyasye and Electoral Prussia, when I was going to Tanrogi, there came to me a noble of respectable family. That noble, not being aware of my real love for our gracious king, and thinking that I, like others, was an enemy of his, promised for a considerable reward to go to Silesia, carry off Yan Kazimir and deliver him to the Swedes, either living or dead.”
All were dumb with amazement.
“And when with anger and disgust I rejected such an offer,” said Boguslav, in conclusion, “that man with brazen forehead said, ‘I will go to Radzeyovski; he will buy and pay me gold by the pound.’ ”
“I am not a friend of the ex-king,” said Yanush; “but if the noble had made me a proposal like that, I should have placed him by a wall, and in front of him six musketeers.”
“At the first moment I wanted to do so, but did not,” answered Boguslav, “as the conversation was with four eyes, and people might cry out against the violence and tyranny of the Radzivills. I frightened him, however, by saying that Radzeyovski and the King of Sweden, even Hmelnitski, would put him to death for such a proposal; in one word, I brought that criminal so far that he abandoned his plan.”
“That was not right; it was not proper to let him go living, he deserved at least the impaling-stake,” cried Korf.
Boguslav turned suddenly to Yanush.
“I cherish also the hope that punishment will not miss him, and first I propose that he perish not by an ordinary death; but your highness alone is able to punish him, for he is your attendant and your colonel.”
“In God’s name! my colonel? Who is he—who? Speak!”
“His name is Kmita,” said Boguslav.
“Kmita!” repeated all, with astonishment.
“That is not true!” cried Panna Billevich at once, rising from her chair, with flashing eyes and heaving breast.
Deep silence followed. Some had not recovered yet from the fearful news given by Boguslav; others were astonished at the boldness of that lady who had dared to throw a lie in the eyes of Prince Boguslav; the sword-bearer began to stutter, “Olenka! Olenka!” But Boguslav veiled his face in
