“I have served under the prince from early years, though I am little younger than he; for in the beginning, when I was still a stripling, he was my captain, later on he was full hetman, and now he is grand hetman. I know him better than anyone here; I both love and honor him; therefore I ask you not to compare him with Cromwell, so that I may not be forced to say something which would not become me as host in this room.”
Here Kharlamp began to twitch his mustaches terribly, and to frown a little at Pan Yan; seeing which, Volodyovski fixed on Kharlamp a cool and sharp look, as if he wished to say, “Only growl, only growl!”
Great Mustache took note at once, for he held Volodyovski in unusual esteem, and besides it was dangerous to get angry with him; therefore he continued in a far milder tone—
“The prince is a Calvinist; but he did not reject the true faith for errors, for he was born in them. He will never become either a Cromwell, a Radzeyovski, or an Opalinski, though Kyedani had to sink through the earth. Not such is his blood, not such his stock.”
“If he is the devil and has horns on his head,” said Zagloba, “so much the better, for he will have something to gore the Swedes with.”
“But that Pan Gosyevski and Pan Yudytski are arrested, well, well!” said Volodyovski, shaking his head. “The prince is not very amiable to guests who have confided in him.”
“What do you say, Michael?” answered Kharlamp. “He is amiable as he has never been in his life. He is now a real father to the knights. Think how some time ago he had always a frown on his forehead, and on his lips one word, ‘Service.’ A man was more afraid to go near his majesty than he was to stand before the king; and now he goes every day among the lieutenants and the officers, converses, asks each one about his family, his children, his property, calls each man by name, and inquires if injustice has been done to anyone in service. He who among the highest lords will not own an equal, walked yesterday arm-in-arm with young Kmita. We could not believe our eyes; for though the family of Kmita is a great one, he is quite young, and likely many accusations are weighing on him. Of this you know best.”
“I know, I know,” replied Volodyovski. “Has Kmita been here long?”
“He is not here now, for he went yesterday to Cheykishki for a regiment of infantry stationed there. No one is now in such favor with the prince as Kmita. When he was going away the prince looked after him awhile and said, ‘That man is equal to anything, and is ready to seize the devil himself by the tail if I tell him!’ We heard this with our own ears. It is true that Kmita brought a squadron that has not an equal in the whole army—men and horses like dragons!”
“There is no use in talking, he is a valiant soldier, and in truth ready for everything,” said Pan Michael. “He performed wonders in the last campaign, till a price was set on his head, for he led volunteers and carried on war himself.”
Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a new figure. This was a noble about forty years of age, small, dry, alert, wriggling like a mudfish, with a small face, very thin lips, a scant mustache, and very crooked eyes. He was dressed in a ticking-coat, with such long sleeves that they covered his hands completely. When he had entered he bent double, then he straightened himself as suddenly as if moved by a spring, again he inclined with a low bow, turned his head as if he were taking it out of his own armpits, and began to speak hurriedly in a voice which recalled the squeaking of a rusty weathercock—
“With the forehead, Pan Kharlamp, with the forehead. Ah! with the forehead, Pan Colonel, most abject servant!”
“With the forehead, Pan Harasimovich,” answered Kharlamp; “and what is your wish?”
“God gave guests, distinguished guests. I came to offer my services and to inquire their rank.”
“Did they come to you, Pan Harasimovich?”
“Certainly not to me, for I am not worthy of that; but because I take the place of the absent marshal. I have come to greet them profoundly.”
“It is far from you to the marshal,” said Kharlamp; “for he is a personage with inherited land, while you with permission are under-starosta of Zabludovo.”
“A servant of the servants of Radzivill. That is true, Pan Kharlamp, I make no denial; God preserve me therefrom. But since the prince has heard of the guests, he has sent me to inquire who they are; therefore you will answer, Pan Kharlamp, if I were even a haiduk and not the under-starosta of Zabludovo.”
“Oh, I would answer even a monkey if he were to come with an order,” said Big Nose. “Listen now, and calk these names into yourself if your head is not able to hold them. This is Pan Skshetuski, that hero of Zbaraj; and this is his cousin Stanislav.”
“Great God! what do I hear?” cried Harasimovich.
“This is Pan Zagloba.”
“Great God! what do I hear?”
“If you are so confused at hearing my name,” said Zagloba, “think of the confusion of the enemy in the field.”
“And this is Colonel Volodyovski,” finished Kharlamp.
“And he has a famous sabre, and besides is a Radzivill man,” said Harasimovich, with a bow. “The prince’s head is splitting from labor; but still he will find time for such knights, surely he will find it. Meanwhile with what can you be served? The whole castle is at the service of such welcome guests, and the cellars as well.”
“We have heard of the famous meads of Kyedani,” said Zagloba, hurriedly.
“Indeed!” answered Harasimovich, “there are
