A certain time both rode out on ponies to Mitruny, where they were rebuilding barns and cow-houses burned in time of war.
On the road they were to visit the church; for that was the anniversary of the battle of Volmontovichi, in which they were saved from the last straits by the coming of Babinich. The whole day had passed for them in various occupations, so that only toward evening could they start from Mitruny. In going there they went by the church-road, but in returning they had to pass through Lyubich and Volmontovichi. Panna Aleksandra had barely looked at the first smoke of Lyubich when she turned aside her eyes and began to repeat prayers to drive away painful thoughts; but the sword-bearer rode on in silence, and only looked around. At last, when they had passed the gate, he said—
“That is land for a senator! Lyubich is worth two like Mitruny.”
Olenka continued to say her prayers.
But in Pan Tomash was roused the old landlord by nature, and perhaps also he was given somewhat to lawsuits; for after a while he said again, as if to himself—
“And yet it is ours by right—old Billevich property, our sweat, our toil. That unfortunate man must have perished long since, for he has not announced himself; and if he had, the right is with us.” Here he turned to Olenka: “What do you think?”
“That is a cursed place,” answered she. “Let happen with it what may!”
“But you see the right is with us. The place was cursed in bad hands, but it will be blessed in good ones. The right is with us.”
“Never! I do not wish to know anything of it. My grandfather willed it without restriction; let Kmita’s relatives take it.”
Then she urged on the pony. Billevich put spurs also to his beast, and they did not slacken speed till they were in the open field. Meanwhile night had fallen; but there was perfect light, for an enormous red moon had risen from behind the forest of Volmontovichi and lighted up the whole region with a golden shining.
“Well! God has given a beautiful night,” said the sword-bearer, looking at the circle of the moon.
“How Volmontovichi gleams from a distance!” said Olenka.
“For the wood in the houses has not become black.”
Their further conversation was interrupted by the squeaking of a wagon, which they could not see at first, for the road was undulating; soon, however, they saw a pair of horses, and following behind them a pair at a pole, and at the end of the pole a wagon surrounded by a number of horsemen.
“What kind of people can these be?” asked the sword-bearer; and he held in his horse. Olenka stopped at his side.
“Halt!” cried Billevich. “Whom are you carrying there?”
One of the horsemen turned to them and said—
“We are bringing Pan Kmita, who was shot by the Hungarians at Magyerovo.”
“The word has become flesh!” said Billevich.
The whole world went around suddenly in Olenka’s eyes; the heart died within her, breath failed her breast. Certain voices were calling in her soul: “Jesus! Mary! that is he!” Then consciousness of where she was or what was happening left her entirely.
But she did not drop from the horse to the ground, for she seized convulsively with her hand the wagon-rack; and when she came to herself her eyes fell on the motionless form of a man lying in the wagon. True, that was he—Pan Andrei Kmita, the banneret of Orsha; and he was lying on his back in the wagon. His head was bound in a cloth, but by the ruddy light of the moon his pale and calm face was perfectly visible. His eyes were deeply sunk and closed; life did not discover itself by the least movement.
“With God!” said Billevich, removing his cap.
“Stop!” cried Olenka. And she asked with a low but quick voice, as in a fever: “Is he alive or dead?”
“He is alive, but death is over him.”
Here the sword-bearer, looking at Kmita’s face, said: “You will not take him to Lyubich?”
“He gave orders to take him to Lyubich without fail, for he wants to die there.”
“With God! hasten forward.”
“We beat with the forehead!”
The wagon moved on; and Olenka with Billevich galloped in the opposite direction with what breath was in their horses. They flew through Volmontovichi like two night phantoms, and came to Vodokty without speaking a word on the road; only when dismounting, Olenka turned to her uncle—
“It is necessary to send a priest to him,” said she, with a panting voice; “let someone go this moment to Upita.”
The sword-bearer went quickly to carry out her wish; she rushed into her room, and threw herself on her knees before the image of the Most Holy Lady.
A couple of hours after, in the late evening, a bell was heard beyond the gate at Vodokty. That was the priest passing on his way with the Lord Jesus to Lyubich.
Panna Aleksandra was on her knees continually. Her lips were repeating the litany for the dying. And when she had finished she struck the floor three times with her head, repeating: “Reckon to him, O God, that he dies at the hands of the enemy; forgive him, have mercy on him!”
In this way the whole night passed for her. The priest remained in Lyubich till morning, and on his way home called at Vodokty. Olenka ran out to meet him.
“Is it all over?” asked she; and could say no more, for breath failed her.
“He is alive yet,” answered the priest.
During each of the following days a number of messengers flew from Vodokty to Lyubich, and each returned with the answer that
