Sakovich gnashed his teeth and went out.
That same day news of the victory at Varka was ringing through Taurogi, and such fear fell on all partisans of the Swedes that Sakovich himself dared not punish the priests who sang publicly in the neighboring churches “Te Deum.”
A great burden fell from his heart, when a few weeks later a letter came from Boguslav, who was before Marienburg, with information that the king had escaped from the river sack. But the other news was very disagreeable. The prince asked reinforcements, and directed to leave in Taurogi no more troops than were absolutely needed for defence.
All the cavalry ready marched the next day, and with it Kettling, Oettingen, Fitz-Gregory—in a word, all the best officers, except Braun, who was indispensable to Sakovich.
Taurogi was still more deserted than after the prince’s departure. Anusia grew weary, and annoyed Sakovich all the more. The starosta thought of removing to Prussia; for parties, made bold by the departure of the troops, began again to push beyond Rossyeni. The Billeviches themselves had collected about five hundred horse, small nobles and peasants. They had inflicted a sensible defeat on Bützov, who had marched against them, and they ravaged without mercy all villages belonging to Radzivill.
Men rallied to them willingly; for no family, not even the Hleboviches, enjoyed such general honor and respect. Sakovich was sorry to leave Taurogi at the mercy of the enemy; he knew that in Prussia it would be difficult for him to get money and reinforcements, that he managed here as he liked, there his power must decrease; still he lost hope more and more of being able to maintain himself.
Bützov, defeated, took refuge under him; and the tidings which he brought of the power and growth of the rebellion made Sakovich decide at last on the Prussian journey.
As a positive man, and one loving to bring into speedy effect that which he had planned, he finished his preparations in ten days, issued orders, and was ready to march.
Suddenly he met with an unlooked for resistance, and from a side from which he had least expected it—from Anusia Borzobogati.
Anusia did not think of going to Prussia. She was comfortable in Taurogi. The advances of confederate “parties” did not alarm her in the least; and if the Billeviches had attacked Taurogi itself, she would have been glad. She understood also that in a strange place, among Germans, she would be at Sakovich’s mercy completely, and that she might the more easily be brought there to obligation, for which she had no desire; therefore she resolved to insist on remaining. Olenka, to whom she explained her reasons, not only confirmed the justness of them, but implored with all her power, with tears in her eyes, to oppose the journey.
“Here,” said she, “salvation may come—if not today, tomorrow; there we should both be lost utterly.”
“But see, you almost abused me because I wanted to conquer the starosta, though I knew of nothing; as I love Princess Griselda, it only came somehow of itself. But now would he regard my resistance were he not in love? What do you think?”
“True, Anusia, true,” responded Olenka.
“Do not trouble yourself, my most beautiful flower! We shall not stir a foot out of Taurogi; besides, I shall annoy Sakovich terribly.”
“God grant you success!”
“Why should I not have it? I shall succeed, first, because he cares for me, and second, as I think he cares for my property. It is easy for him to get angry with me; he can even wound me with his sabre; but then all would be lost.”
And it turned out that she was right. Sakovich came to her joyful and confident; but she greeted him with disdainful mien.
“Is it possible,” asked she, “that you wish to flee to Prussia from dread of the Billeviches?”
“Not before the Billeviches,” answered he, frowning; “not from fear; but I go there from prudence, so as to act against those robbers with fresh forces.”
“Then a pleasant journey to you.”
“How is that? Do you think that I will go without you, my dearest hope?”
“Whoso is a coward may find hope in flight, not in me.”
Sakovich was pale from anger. He would have punished her; but seeing before whom he was standing, he restrained himself, softened his fierce face with a smile, and said, as if jesting—
“Oh, I shall not ask. I will seat you in a carriage and take you along.”
“Will you?” asked she. “Then I see that I am held here in captivity against the will of the prince. Know then, sir, that if you do that, I shall not speak another word to you all my life, so help me the Lord God! for I was reared in Lubni, and I have the greatest contempt for cowards. Would that I had not fallen into such hands! Would that Pan Babinich had carried me off for good into Lithuania, for he was not afraid of any man!”
“For God’s sake!” cried Sakovich. “Tell me at least why you are unwilling to go to Prussia.”
But Anusia feigned weeping and despair.
“Tartars as it were have taken me into captivity, though I was reared by Princess Griselda, and no one had a right to me. They seize me, imprison me, take me beyond the sea by force, will condemn me to exile. It is soon to be seen how they will tear me with pincers! O my God! my God!”
“Have the fear of that God on whom you are calling!” cried the starosta. “Who will tear you with pincers?”
“Oh, save me, all ye saints!” cried Anusia, sobbing.
Sakovich knew not what to do; he was choking with rage. At times he thought that he would go mad, or that Anusia had gone mad. At last he threw himself at her feet and said that he would stay in Taurogi. Then she began to entreat him to go away, if he was afraid; with which she brought him
