“If he is your relative or betrothed, I am grieved that I mentioned this fact; but cast him out of your heart, for he is not worthy of you, O lady.”
She remained yet a moment in pain, flushed, and astonished; but by degrees her face became cool, until it was cold and pale. She sank down in the chair, and said—
“Forgive me, your highness, I made an unseemly contradiction. All is possible for that man.”
“May God punish me if I feel aught save pity!” answered Boguslav, mildly.
“He was the betrothed of this lady,” said Prince Yanush, “and I myself made the match. He was a young man, hotheaded; he caused a world of turmoil. I saved him from justice, for he was a good soldier. I saw that he was lawless, and would be; but that he, a noble, could think of such infamy, I did not expect.”
“He is an evil man; that I knew long since,” said Ganhoff.
“And why did you not forewarn me?” inquired Yanush, in a tone of reproach.
“I was afraid that your highness might suspect me of envy, for he had everywhere the first step before me.”
“Horribile dictu et auditu (horrible in the speaking and the hearing),” said Korf.
“Gracious gentlemen,” exclaimed Boguslav, “let us give peace to him. If it is grievous for you to hear of this, what must it be for Panna Billevich?”
“Your highness, be pleased not to consider me,” said Olenka; “I can listen to everything now.”
The evening was drawing toward its close. Water was given for the washing of fingers; then Prince Yanush rose first and gave his arm to Pani Korf, and Prince Boguslav to Olenka.
“God has punished the traitor already,” said he to her; “for whoso has lost you has lost heaven. It is less than two hours since I first saw you, charming lady, and I should be glad to see you forever, not in pain and in tears, but in joy and in happiness.”
“I thank your highness,” answered Olenka.
After the departure of the ladies the men returned to the table to seek consolation in cups, which went around frequently. Prince Boguslav drank deeply, for he was satisfied with himself. Prince Yanush conversed with the sword-bearer of Rossyeni.
“I march tomorrow with the army for Podlyasye,” said he. “A Swedish garrison will come to Kyedani. God knows when I shall return. You cannot stay here with the maiden; it would not be a fit place for her among soldiers. You will both go with Prince Boguslav to Taurogi, where she may stay with my wife among her ladies in waiting.”
“Your highness,” answered the sword-bearer, “God has given us a corner of our own; why should we go to strange places? It is a great kindness of your highness to think of us: but not wishing to abuse favor, we prefer to return to our own roof.”
The prince was unable to explain to the sword-bearer all the reasons for which he would not let Olenka out of his hands at any price; but some of them he told with all the rough outspokenness of a magnate.
“If you wish to accept it as a favor, all the better, but I will tell you that it is precaution as well. You will be a hostage there; you will be responsible to me for all the Billeviches, who I know well do not rank themselves among my friends, and are ready to raise Jmud in rebellion when I am gone. Advise them to sit in peace, and do nothing against the Swedes, for your head and that of your niece will answer for their acts.”
At this juncture patience was evidently lacking to the sword-bearer, for he answered quickly—
“It would be idle for me to appeal to my rights as a noble. Power is on the side of your highness, and it is all one to me where I must sit in prison; I prefer even that place to this.”
“Enough!” said the prince, threateningly.
“What is enough, is enough!” answered the sword-bearer. “God grant to this violence an end, and to justice new power. Speaking briefly, do not threaten, your highness, for I fear not.”
Evidently Boguslav saw lightnings of anger gleaming on the face of Yanush, for he approached quickly.
“What is the question?” asked he, standing between them.
“I was telling the hetman,” said the sword-bearer, with irritation, “that I choose imprisonment in Taurogi rather than in Kyedani.”
“In Taurogi there is for you not a prison, but my house, in which you will be as if at home. I know that the hetman chooses to see in you a hostage; I see only a dear guest.”
“I thank your highness,” answered the sword-bearer.
“And I thank you. Let us strike glasses and drink together, for they say that a libation must be made to friendship, or it will wither at its birth.”
So saying, Boguslav conducted the sword-bearer to the table, and they fell to touching glasses and drinking to each other often and frequently. An hour later the sword-bearer turned with somewhat uncertain step toward his room, repeating in an undertone—
“An amiable lord! A worthy lord! A more honest one could not be found with a lantern—gold, pure gold! I would gladly shed my blood for him!”
Meanwhile the cousins found themselves alone. They had something yet to talk over, and besides, certain letters came; a page was sent to bring these from Ganhoff.
“Evidently,” said Yanush, “there is not a word of truth in what you reported of Kmita?”
“Evidently. You know best yourself. But, well? Acknowledge, was not Mazarin right? With one move to take terrible vengeance on an enemy, and to make a breach in that beautiful fortress—well, who could do that? This is called intrigue worthy of the first court in the world! But that Panna Billevich is a pearl, and charming too, lordly and distinguished as if of princely blood. I thought I should spring from my skin.”
“Remember that you have given your word—remember that he will ruin us if he
