The Deluge. Vol. 2

"O God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" cried the voice of a woman right there near Pan Andrei; and in the church there broke out anew a murmur of amazement.

The priest read on, —

"He was shot by Boguslav, but had barely recovered when he went to Chenstohova, and there defended with his own breast that most sacred Retreat, giving an example of endurance and valor to all; there, in danger of his life and health, he blew up with powder the greatest siege-gun. Seized after that daring deed, he was condemned to death by cruel enemies, and tortured with living fire."

With this the weeping of women was heard here and there through the church. Olenka was trembling as in a paroxysm of fever.

"But rescued by the power of the Queen of the Angels from those terrible straits, he came to us in Silesia, and on our return to this dear country, when the treacherous enemy prepared an ambush for us, the said banneret of Orsha rushed himself, with his three attendants, on the whole power of the enemy, to save our person. There, cut down and thrust through with rapiers, swimming in his own blood, he was borne from the field as if lifeless – "

Olenka placed both her hands on her temples, and raising her head, began to catch the air into her parted lips. From her bosom came out the groan, —

"O God! O God! O God!"

And again the voice of the priest sounded, also more and more moved: —

"And when with our endeavors he returned to health, he did not rest, but continued the war, standing forth with immeasurable praise in every necessity, held up as a model to knighthood by the hetmans of both people, till the fortunate capture of Warsaw, after which he was sent to Prussia under the assumed name of Babinich – "

When that name was heard in the church, the noise of the people changed as it were into the roar of a river.

"Then he is Babinich? Then he is that crusher of the Swedes, the savior of Volmontovichi, the victor in so many battles, – that is Kmita?"

The murmur increased still more; throngs began to push toward the altar to see him more closely.

"God bless him! God bless him!" said hundreds of voices.

The priest turned to the seat and blessed Pan Andrei, who, leaning continually against the railing, was more like a dead than a living man, for the soul had gone out of him with happiness and had risen toward the sky.

The priest read on, – <</p>

"He visited the enemy's country with fire and sword, was the main cause of the victory at Prostki; with his own hand he overthrew and captured Prince Boguslav. Called late to our starostaship of Jmud, what immense service he rendered there, how many towns and villages he saved from the hands of the enemy, must be known to the inhabitants of that starostaship better than to others."

"It is known, it is known, it is known!" was thundered through the whole church.

"Silence!" said the priest, raising the king's letter.

"Therefore we, considering all his services to us and the country, so many that a son could not have done more for his father and his mother, have determined to publish them in this our letter, so that so great a cavalier, so great a defender of the faith, of king and Commonwealth, should no longer be pursued by the ill-will of men, but go clothed with the praise and universal love proper to the virtuous. Before then the next Diet, confirming these our wishes, shall remove from him every stain, and before we shall reward him with the starostaship of Upita, which is vacant, we ask earnestly of the inhabitants dear to us of our starostaship of Jmud to retain in their hearts and thoughts these our words, which justice itself, the foundation of States, has commanded us to put into their memory."

Here the priest concluded, and turning to the altar began to pray; but Pan Andrei felt on a sudden that a soft hand was seizing his hand. He looked. It was Olenka; and before he had time to come to himself, to withdraw his hand, she had raised it and pressed it to her lips in presence of all, before the altar and the people.

"Olenka!" cried the astonished Kmita.

But she had arisen, and covering her face with a veil, said to old Billevich, —

"Uncle, let us go, let us go from here quickly!"

And they went out through the door of the vestry.

Pan Andrei tried to rise to follow her, but he could not. His strength left him entirely.

But a quarter of an hour later he was in front of the church, supported on one side by Pan Volodyovski, on the other by Zagloba.

The throng of people, small nobles and common men, crowded around. Women, some barely able to tear away from the breast of a husband returned from the war, led by curiosity special to the sex, ran to look at that Kmita, once terrible, now the savior of Lauda and the coming starosta. The throng became greater every instant, till the Lauda men had at last to surround him and protect him from the crush.

"Pan Andrei!" cried Zagloba, "see, we have brought you a present. You did not expect such a one. Now to Vodokty, to Vodokty, to the betrothal and the wedding!"

Further words of Zagloba were lost in the thundering shout raised at once by the Lauda men, under the leadership of Yuzva Footless, —

"Long life to Pan Kmita!"

"Long life!" repeated the crowd. "Long life to our starosta of Upita! Long life!"

"All to Vodokty!" roared Zagloba, again.

"To Vodokty! to Vodokty!" shouted a thousand throats. "As best men to Vodokty with Pan Kmita, with our savior! To the lady! to Vodokty!"

And an immense movement began. Lauda mounted its horses; every man living rushed to wagons, carts, ponies. People on foot began to run across field and forest. The shout "To Vodokty!" rang through the whole place. The roads were thronged with many-colored crowds.

Kmita rode in his little wagon between Volodyovski and Zagloba, and time after time he embraced one or the other of them. He was not able to speak yet, he was too much excited; but they pushed on as if Tartars were attacking Upita. All the wagons and carts rushed in like manner around them.

They were well outside the place, when Pan Michael suddenly bent to Kmita's ear. "Yendrek," asked he, "but do you not know where the other is?"

"In Vodokty."

Then, whether it was the wind or excitement that began to move the mustaches of Pan Michael, is unknown; it is enough that during the whole way they did not cease to thrust forward like two awls, or like the feelers of a Maybug.

Zagloba was singing with delight in such a terrible bass voice that he frightened the horses, —

"There were two of us, Kasyenko, two in this world;
But methinks, somehow, that three are now riding."

Anusia was not at church that Sunday, for she had in her turn to stay with the weakly Panna Kulvyets, with whom she and Olenka remained on alternate days.

The whole morning she had been occupied with watching and taking care of the sick woman, so that it was late when she could go to her prayers. Barely had she said the last "Amen," when there was a thundering before the gate, and Olenka rushed into the room like a storm.

"Jesus! Mary! What has happened?" screamed Anusia, looking at her.

"Anusia, you do not know who Pan Babinich is? He is Pan Kmita!"

Anusia sprang to her feet: "Who told you?"

"The king's letter was read – Pan Volodyovski brought it – the Lauda men – "

"Has Pan Volodyovski returned?" screamed Anusia; and she threw herself into Olenka's arms.

Olenka took this outburst of feeling as a proof of Anusia's love for her; for she had become feverish, was almost unconscious. On her face were fiery spots, and her breast rose and fell as if from great pain.

Then Olenka began to tell without order and in a broken voice everything which she had heard in the church, running at the same time through the room as if demented, repeating every moment, "I am not worthy of him!" reproaching herself terribly, saying that she had done him more injustice than all others, that she had not even been willing to pray for him, when he was swimming in his own blood in defence of the Holy Lady, the country, and the king.

In vain did Anusia, while running after her through the room, endeavor to comfort her. She repeated continually one thing, – that she was not worthy of him, that she would not dare to look in his eyes; then again she would begin to speak of the deeds of Babinich, of the seizure of Boguslav, of his revenge, of saving the king, of Prostki, Volmontovichi, and Chenstohova; and at last of her own faults, of her stubbornness, for which she must do penance in the cloister.