Pan Andrei bent his ear carefully to what nobles were saying, and though they did not wish greatly to speak with him, since he was a poor fellow, he discovered this much, that near neighbors, acquaintances, even friends, did not speak among themselves with sincerity touching the Swedes or the new government. It is true they complained loudly of the “requisitions;” and in fact there was reason, for to each village, each hamlet, came letters from commandants with orders to furnish great quantities of grain, bread, salt, cattle, money; and frequently these orders exceeded the possible, especially because when supplies of one kind were exhausted, others were demanded; whoso did not pay, to him was sent an execution in thrice the amount.
But the old days had gone! Each man extricated himself as best he was able, took out of his own mouth, gave, paid; complaining, groaning, and thinking in his soul that long ago it was different. But they comforted themselves for the time, saying that when the war was over the requisitions would cease. The Swedes promised the same, saying, “Only let the king gain the whole country, he will begin to govern at once like a father.”
For the nobles who had given up their own king and country; who before, and not long before, had called the kindly Yan Kazimir a tyrant, suspecting him of striving for absolute power; who opposed him in everything, protesting in provincial and national diets, and in their hunger for novelty and change went so far that they recognized, almost without opposition, an invader as lord, so as to have some change—it would be a shame then even to complain. Karl Gustav had freed them from the tyrant, they had abandoned of their own will their lawful king; but they had the change so greatly desired.
Therefore the most intimate did not speak sincerely among themselves touching what they thought of that change, inclining their ears willingly to those who asserted that the attacks, requisitions, robberies, and confiscations were, of course burdens, but only temporary ones, which would cease as soon as Karl Gustav was firm on the throne.
“This is grievous, brother, grievous,” said one noble to another at times, “but still we must be thankful for the new ruler. He is a great potentate and warrior; he will conquer the Tartars, restrain the Turks, drive the Northerners away from the boundaries; and we together with Sweden will flourish.”
“Even if we were not glad,” answered another, “what is to be done against such power? We cannot fly to the sun on a spade.”
At times, too, they referred to the fresh oath. Kmita was enraged listening to such talks and discussions; and once when a certain noble said in his presence in an inn that a man must be faithful to him to whom he had taken oath. Pan Andrei shouted out to him—
“You must have two mouths—one for true and the other for false oaths, for you have sworn to Yan Kazimir!”
There were many other nobles present, for this happened not far from Pjasnysh. Hearing these words, all started. On some faces wonder was visible at the boldness of Kmita; others flushed. At last the most important man said—
“No one here has broken his oath to the former king. He broke it himself; for he left the country, not watching over its defence.”
“Would you were killed!” cried Kmita. “But King Lokyetek—how many times was he forced to leave the country, and still he returned, for the fear of God was yet in men’s hearts. It was not Yan Kazimir who deserted, but those who sold him and who now calumniate him, so as to palliate their own sins before God and the world!”
“You speak too boldly, young man! Whence come you who wish to teach us people of this place the fear of God? See to it that the Swedes do not overhear you.”
“If you are curious, I will tell you whence I am. I am from Electoral Prussia, and belong to the elector. But being of Sarmatian blood, I feel a good will toward the country, and am ashamed of the indifference of this people.”
Here the nobles, forgetting their anger, surrounded him and began to inquire hurriedly and with curiosity—
“You are from Electoral Prussia? But tell what you know! What is the elector doing there? Does he think of rescuing us from oppression?”
“From what oppression? You are glad of the new ruler, so do not talk of oppression. As you have made your bed, so you must sleep on it.”
“We are glad, for we cannot help it. They stand with swords over our necks. But speak out, as if we were not glad.”
“Give him something to drink, let his tongue be loosened! Speak boldly, there are no traitors here among us.”
“You are all traitors!” roared Pan Andrei, “and I don’t wish to drink with you; you are servants of the Swedes.”
Then he went out of the room, slamming the door, and they remained in shame and amazement; no man seized his sabre, no man moved after Kmita to avenge the insult.
But he went directly to Pryasnysh. A few furlongs before the place Swedish patrols took him and led him before the commandant. There were only six men in the patrol, and an under-officer was the seventh; therefore Soroka and the two Kyemliches began to look at them hungrily, like wolves at sheep, and asked Kmita with their eyes, if he would not give order to surround them.
Pan Andrei also felt no small temptation, especially since the Vengyerka flowed near, between banks overgrown with reeds; but he restrained himself, and let the party be taken quietly to the commandant.
There he told the commandant who he was—that he had come from the elector’s country, and that he went every year with horses to Sobota. The Kyemliches too had certificates with which they provided themselves in
