“There is no help here,” said Zagloba, “but stratagem.”
No one gave answer; therefore he began to talk again after a while: “I will not believe that we are to be put to death. If for every word spoken in haste and in drink, a head were cut off, not one noble in this Commonwealth would walk around with his head on his shoulders. But neminem captivabimus? Is that a trifle?”
“You have an example in yourself and in us,” answered Stanislav.
“Well, that happened in haste; but I believe firmly that the prince will take a second thought. We are strangers; in no way do we come under his jurisdiction. He must respect opinion, and not begin with violence, so as not to offend the nobles. As true as life, our party is too large to have the heads cut from all of us. Over the officers he has authority, I cannot deny that; but, as I think, he will look to the army, which surely will not fail to remember its own. And where is your squadron, Michael?”
“In Upita.”
“But tell me, are you sure that the men will be true to you?”
“Whence should I know? They like me well enough, but they know that the hetman is above me.”
Zagloba meditated awhile. “Give me an order to them to obey me in everything, as they would you, if I appear among them.”
“You think that you are free!”
“There is no harm in that. I have been in hotter places, and God saved me. Give an order for me and the two Skshetuskis. Whoso escapes first will go straight to the squadron, and bring it to rescue the others.”
“You are raving! It is a pity to lose time in empty talk! Who will escape from this place? Besides, on what can I give an order; have you paper, ink, pen? You are losing your head.”
“Desperation!” cried Zagloba; “give me even your ring.”
“Here it is, and let me have peace!”
Zagloba took the ring, put it on his little finger, and began to walk and meditate.
Meanwhile the smoking candle went out, and darkness embraced them completely; only through the grating of the high window a couple of stars were visible, twinkling in the clear sky. Zagloba’s eye did not leave the grating. “If heaven-dwelling Podbipienta were living and with us,” muttered the old man, “he would tear out that grating, and in an hour we should see ourselves beyond Kyedani.”
“But raise me to the window,” said Pan Yan, suddenly.
Zagloba and Pan Stanislav placed themselves at the wall; in a moment Yan was on their shoulders.
“It cracks! As God is dear to me, it cracks!” cried Zagloba.
“What are you talking about, father? I haven’t begun to pull it yet.”
“Crawl up with your cousin; I’ll hold you somehow. More than once I pitied Pan Michael because he was so slender; but now I regret that he is not still thinner, so as to slip through like a snake.”
But Yan sprang down from their shoulders. “The Scots are standing on this side!” said he.
“May God turn them into pillars of salt, like Lot’s wife!” said Zagloba. “It is so dark here that you might strike a man in the face, and he could not see you. It will soon be daybreak. I think they will bring us food of some kind, for even Lutherans do not put prisoners to a hunger death. Perhaps, too, God will send reflection to the hetman. Often in the night conscience starts up in a man, and the devils pinch sinners. Can it be there is only one entrance to this cellar? I will look in the daytime. My head is somehow heavy, and I cannot think out a stratagem. Tomorrow God will strengthen my wit; but now we will say the Lord’s Prayer, and commit ourselves to the Most Holy Lady, in this heretical dungeon.”
In fact they began a moment later to say the Lord’s Prayer and the litany to the Mother of God; then Yan, Stanislav, and Volodyovski were silent, for their breasts were full of misfortune, but Zagloba growled in a low voice and muttered—
“It must be beyond doubt that tomorrow he will say to us, aut, aut! (either, or). ‘Join Radzivill and I will pardon everything.’ But we shall see who outwits the other. Do you pack nobles into prison, have you no respect for age or services? Very good! To whom the loss, to him the weeping! The foolish will be under, and the wise on top. I will promise what you like, but what I observe would not make a patch for your boot. If you do not hold to the country, he is virtuous who holds not to you. This is certain, that final ruin is coming on the Commonwealth if its foremost dignitaries join the enemy. This has never been in the world hitherto, and surely a man may lose his senses from it. Are there in hell torments sufficient for such traitors? What was wanting to such a Radzivill? Is it little that the country has given him, that he should sell it like a Judas, and in the very time of its greatest misfortunes, in the time of three wars? Just is thy anger, O Lord! only give swiftest punishment. So be it! Amen! If I could only get out of here quickly, I would create partisans for thee, mighty hetman! Thou wilt know how the fruits of treason taste. Thou wilt look on me yet as a friend; but if thou findest no better, do not hunt a bear unless thy skin is not dear to thee.”
Thus did Zagloba converse with himself. Meanwhile one hour passed, and a second; at last day began to dawn. The gray light falling through the grating dissipated slowly the darkness in the cellar, and brought out the gloomy figures sitting at the walls. Volodyovski and
