The Deluge. Vol. 2

Now Anusia put her head out of the window. "What is the matter?" asked she.

"Nothing! Pan Zamoyski commends you once more to my bravery. Nothing more."

Here he turned to the driver, —

"Forward!"

The officer leading the horsemen reined in his horse. "Stop!" cried he to the driver. Then to Kmita, "Why move on?"

"But why halt longer in the forest?" asked Kmita, with the face of a stupid rogue.

"For you have received some order."

"And what is that to you? I have received, and that is why I command to move on."

"Stop!" repeated the officer.

"Move on!" repeated Kmita.

"What is this?" inquired Anusia again.

"We will not go a step farther till I see the order!" said the officer, with decision.

"You will not see the order, for it is not sent to you."

"Since you will not obey it, I will carry it out. You move on to Krasnystav, and have a care lest we give you something for the road, but we will go home with the lady."

Kmita only wished the officer to acknowledge that he knew the contents of the order; this proved with perfect certainty that the whole affair was a trick arranged in advance.

"Move on with God!" repeated the officer now, with a threat.

At that moment the horsemen began one after another to take out their sabres.

"Oh, such sons! not to Zamost did you wish to take the maiden, but aside somewhere, so that Pan Zamoyski might give free reign to his wishes; but you have met with a more cunning man!" When Babinich had said this, he fired upward from a pistol.

At this sound there was such an uproar in the forest, as if the shot had roused whole legions of wolves sleeping near by. The howl was heard in front, behind, from the sides. At once the tramp of horses sounded with the cracking of limbs breaking under their hoofs, and on the road were seen black groups of horsemen, who approached with unearthly howling.

"Jesus! Mary! Joseph!" cried the terrified women in the carriage.

Now the Tartars rushed up like a cloud; but Kmita restrained them with a triple cry, and turning to the astonished officer, began to boast, —

"Know whom you have met! Pan Zamoyski wished to make a fool of me, a blind instrument. To you he intrusted the functions of a pander, which you undertook, Sir Officer for the favor of a master. How down to Zamoyski from Babinich, and tell him that the maiden will go safely to Pan Sapyeha."

The officer looked around with frightened glance, and saw the wild faces gazing with terrible eagerness on him and his men. It was evident that they were waiting only for a word to hurl themselves on the twelve horsemen and tear them in pieces.

"Your grace, you will do what you wish, for we cannot manage superior power," said he, with trembling voice "but Pan Zamoyski is able to avenge himself."

Kmita laughed. "Let him avenge himself on you; for had it not come out that you knew the contents of the order and had you not opposed the advance, I should not have been sure of the trick, and should have given you the maiden straightway. Tell the starosta to appoint a keener pander than you."

The calm tone with which Kmita said this assured the officer somewhat, at least on this point, – that death did not threaten either him or his troopers; therefore he breathed easily, and said, —

"And must we return with nothing to Zamost?"

"You will return with my letter, which will be written on the skin of each one of you."

"Your grace – "

"Take them!" cried Kmita; and he seized the officer himself by the shoulder.

An uproar and struggle began around the carriage. The shouts of the Tartars deadened the cries for assistance and the screams of terror coming from the breasts of the women.

But the struggle did not last long, for a few minutes later the horsemen were lying on the road tied, one at the side of the other.

Kmita gave command to flog them with bullock-skin whips, but not beyond measure, so that they might retain strength to walk back to Zamost. The common soldiers received one hundred, and the officer a hundred and fifty lashes, in spite of the prayers and entreaties of Anusia, who not knowing what was passing around her, and thinking that she had fallen into terrible hands, began to implore with joined palms and tearful eyes for her life.

"Spare my life, knight! In what am I guilty before you? Spare me, spare me!"

"Be quiet, young lady!" roared Kmita.

"In what have I offended?"

"Maybe you are in the plot yourself?"

"In what plot? O God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"

"Then you did not know that Pan Zamoyski only permitted your departure apparently, so as to separate you from the princess and carry you off on the road, to make an attempt on your honor in some empty castle?"

"O Jesus of Nazareth!" screamed Anusia.

And there was so much truth and sincerity in that cry that Kmita said more mildly, —

"How is that? Then you were not in the plot? That may be!"

Anusia covered her face with her hands, but she could say nothing; she merely repeated, time after time, —

"Jesus, Mary! Jesus, Mary!"

"Calm yourself," said Kmita, still more mildly. "You will go in safety to Pan Sapyeha, for Pan Zamoyski did not know with whom he had to deal. See, those men whom they are flogging were to carry you off. I give them their lives, so that they may tell Pan Zamoyski how smoothly it went with them."

"Then have you defended me from shame?"

"I have, though I did not know whether you would be glad."

Anusia, instead of making answer or contradiction, seized Pan Andrei's hand and pressed it to her pale lips; and sparks went from his feet to his head.

"Give peace, for God's sake!" cried he. "Sit in the carriage, for you will wet your feet – and be not afraid! You would not be better cared for with your mother."

"I will go now with you even to the end of the world."