“Praise be to God!” said the king. “But where is Charnyetski?”
“So many of the best cavaliers have hurried to him that in one day he was at the head of an excellent squadron. He moved at once on the Swedes, and where he is at this moment we know not.”
“But the hetmans?”
“They are waiting anxiously for the commands of your Royal Grace. They are both laying plans for the coming war, and are in communication with Pan Yan Zamoyski in Zamost; meanwhile regiments are rolling to them every day with the snow.”
“Have all left the Swedes then?”
“Yes, Gracious King. There were deputies also to the hetmans from the troops of Konyetspolski, who is with the person of Karl Gustav. And they too would be glad to return to their lawful service, though Karl does not spare on them promises or flattery. They said too that though they could not recedere (withdraw) at once, they would do so as soon as a convenient time came, for they have grown tired of his feasts and his flattery, his eye-winking and clapping of hands. They can barely hold out.”
“Everywhere people are coming to their senses, everywhere good news,” said the king. “Praise to the Most Holy Lady! This is the happiest day of my life, and a second such will come only when the last soldier of the enemy leaves the boundary of the Commonwealth.”
At this Pan Domashevski struck his sword. “May God not grant that to happen!” said he.
“How is that?” asked the king, with astonishment.
“That the last wide-breeches should leave the boundaries of the Commonwealth on his own feet? Impossible, Gracious Lord! What have we sabres at our sides for?”
“Oh!” said the king, made glad, “that is bravery.”
But Pan Slujevski, not wishing to remain behind Domashevski, said: “As true as life we will not agree to that, and first I will place a veto on it. We shall not be content with their retreat; we will follow them!”
The primate shook his head, and smiled kindly. “Oh, the nobles are on horseback, and they will ride on and on! But not too fast, not too fast! The enemy are still within the boundaries.”
“Their time is short!” cried both confederates.
“The spirit has changed, and fortune will change,” said Father Gembitski, in a weak voice.
“Wine!” cried the king. “Let me drink to the change, with the confederates.”
They brought wine; but with the servants who brought the wine entered an old attendant of the king, who said—
“Gracious Lord, Pan Kryshtoporski has come from Chenstohova, and wishes to do homage to your Royal Grace.”
“Bring him here quickly!” cried the king.
In a moment a tall, thin noble entered, with a frowning look. He bowed before the king to his feet, then rather haughtily to the dignitaries, and said—
“May the Lord Jesus Christ be praised!”
“For the ages of ages!” answered the king. “What is to be heard from the monastery?”
“Terrible frost, Gracious Lord, so that the eyelids are frozen to the eyeballs.”
“But for God’s sake! tell us of the Swedes and not of the frost!” cried the king.
“But what can I say of them, Gracious Lord, when there are none at Chenstohova?” asked he, humorously.
“Those tidings have come to us,” replied the king, “but only from the talk of people, and you have come from the cloister itself. Are you an eyewitness?”
“I am, Gracious Lord, a partner in the defence and an eyewitness of the miracles of the Most Holy Lady.”
“That was not the end of Her grace,” said the king, raising his eyes to heaven, “but let us earn them further.”
“I have seen much in my life,” continued the noble; “but such evident miracles I have not seen, touching which the prior Kordetski writes in detail in this letter.”
Yan Kazimir seized hastily the letter handed him by the noble, and began to read. At times he interrupted the reading to pray, then again turned to the letter. His face changed with joyful feelings; at last he raised his eyes to the noble.
“Father Kordetski writes me,” said he, “that you have lost a great cavalier, a certain Babinich, who blew up the Swedish siege gun with powder?”
“He sacrificed himself for all. But some say he is alive, and God knows what they have said; not being certain, we have not ceased to mourn him, for without his gallant deed it would have been hard for us to defend ourselves.”
“If that is true, then cease to mourn him. Pan Babinich is alive, and here with us. He was the first to inform us that the Swedes, not being able to do anything against the power of God, were thinking of retreat. And later he rendered such famous service that we know not ourselves how to pay him.”
“Oh, that will comfort the prior!” cried the noble, with gladness; “but if Pan Babinich is alive, it is only because he has the special favor of the Most Holy Lady. How that will comfort Father Kordetski! A father could not love a son as he loved him. And your Royal Grace will permit me to greet Pan Babinich, for there is not a second man of such daring in the Commonwealth.”
But the king began again to read, and after a while cried—
“What do I hear? After retreating they tried once again to steal on the cloister?”
“When Miller went away, he did not show himself again; but Count Veyhard appeared unexpectedly at the walls, trusting, it seems, to find the gates open. He did, but the peasants fell on him with such rage that he retreated shamefully. While the world is a world, simple peasants have never fought so in the open field against cavalry. Then Pan Pyotr Charnyetski and Pan Kulesha came up and cut him to pieces.”
The king turned to the senators.
“See how poor ploughmen stand up in defence of this country and the holy faith.”
“That they stand up, Gracious King,
