“That’s it, that’s it!” said Zagloba, rubbing his palms. “No small amount of Swedish blood has dried on my hands, and there will be more of it in future. Not many of those old soldiers are alive yet who remember me at Putsk and Tjtsianna; but those who are living will never forget me.”
“Is Prince Boguslav here?” asked Volodyovski.
“Of course. Besides him we expect today some great guests, for the upper chambers are made ready, and there is to be a banquet in the evening. I have my doubts, Michael, whether you will reach the prince today.”
“He sent for me himself yesterday.”
“That’s nothing; he is terribly occupied. Besides, I don’t know whether I can speak of it to you—but in an hour everybody will know of it, therefore I will tell you—something or another very strange is going on.”
“What is it, what is it?” asked Zagloba.
“It must be known to you, gentlemen, that two days ago Pan Yudytski came, a knight of Malta, of whom you must have heard.”
“Of course,” said Yan; “he is a great knight.”
“Immediately after him came the full hetman and treasurer. We were greatly astonished, for it is known in what rivalry and enmity Pan Gosyevski is with our prince. Some persons were rejoiced therefore that harmony had come between the lords, and said that the Swedish invasion was the real cause of this. I thought so myself; then yesterday the three shut themselves up in counsel, fastened all the doors, no one could hear what they were talking about; but Pan Krepshtul, who guarded the door, told us that their talk was terribly loud, especially the talk of Pan Gosyevski. Later the prince himself conducted them to their sleeping-chambers, and in the night—imagine to yourselves” (here Kharlamp lowered his voice)—“guards were placed at the door of each chamber.”
Volodyovski sprang up from his seat. “In God’s name! impossible!”
“But it is true. At the doors of each Scots are standing with muskets, and they have the order to let no one in or out under pain of death.”
The knights looked at one another with astonishment; and Kharlamp was no less astonished at his own words, and looked at his companions with staring eyes, as if awaiting the explanation of the riddle from them.
“Does this mean that Pan Gosyevski is arrested? Has the grand hetman arrested the full hetman?” asked Zagloba; “what does this mean?”
“As if I know, and Yudytski such a knight!”
“But the officers of the prince must speak with one another about it and guess at causes. Have you heard nothing?”
“I asked Harasimovich last night.”
“What did he say?” asked Zagloba.
“He would explain nothing, but he put his finger on his mouth and said, ‘They are traitors!’ ”
“How traitors?” cried Volodyovski, seizing his head. “Neither the treasurer nor Pan Yudytski is a traitor. The whole Commonwealth knows them as honorable men and patriots.”
“At present ’tis impossible to have faith in any man,” answered Pan Stanislav, gloomily. “Did not Pan Opalinski pass for a Cato? Did he not reproach others with defects, with offences, with selfishness? But when it came to do something, he was the first to betray, and brought not only himself, but a whole province to treason.”
“I will give my head for the treasurer and Pan Yudytski!” cried Volodyovski.
“Do not give your head for any man, Michael dear,” said Zagloba. “They were not arrested without reason. There must have been some conspiracy; it cannot be otherwise—how could it be? The prince is preparing for a terrible war, and every aid is precious to him. Whom, then, at such a time can he put under arrest, if not those who stand in the way of war? If this is so, if these two men have really stood in the way, then praise be to God that Radzivill has anticipated them. They deserve to sit under ground. Ah, the scoundrels!—at such a time to practise tricks, communicate with the enemy, rise against the country, hinder a great warrior in his undertaking! By the Most Holy Mother, what has met them is too little, the rascals!”
“These are wonders—such wonders that I cannot put them in my head,” said Kharlamp; “for letting alone that they are such dignitaries, they are arrested without judgment, without a diet, without the will of the whole Commonwealth—a thing which the king himself has not the right to do.”
“As true as I live,” cried Pan Michael.
“It is evident that the prince wants to introduce Roman customs among us,” said Pan Stanislav, “and become dictator in time of war.”
“Let him be dictator if he will only beat the Swedes,” said Zagloba; “I will be the first to vote for his dictatorship.”
Pan Yan fell to thinking, and after a while said, “Unless he should wish to become protector, like that English Cromwell who did not hesitate to raise his sacrilegious hand on his own king.”
“Nonsense! Cromwell? Cromwell was a heretic!” cried Zagloba.
“But what is the prince voevoda?” asked Pan Yan, seriously.
At this question
