Finally the old man ended his story thus,--

"And since, as your Highness knows, up to my seventieth year lying has not stained my lips, nor will it while I live, I could not under oath change one word in my story."

The prince knew that Zatsvilikhovski's words were equal to gold, and besides he knew Lashch too well. He gave no answer then; he merely took a pen and began to write. When he had finished he looked at the commander. "Justice will be meted out to you," said he.

The commander opened his mouth and wished to speak, but somehow the words did not come to him; he merely put his hand on his hip, bowed, and went out proudly from the room.

"Jelenski," said the prince, "you will give this letter to Pan Skshetuski."

Volodyovski, who had not left the lieutenant, was astonished somewhat at seeing the messenger come in, for he was sure that they would have to appear at once before the prince. The messenger left the letter and went out in silence. When he had read it Skshetuski handed the letter to his friend. "Read!" said he.

Volodyovski glanced at it, and shouted: "Promotion to the head of the regiment!" And seizing Skshetuski by the neck, he kissed him on both cheeks.

A full lieutenant in the hussar regiment was almost a military dignitary. The captain of that one in which Skshetuski served was the prince himself, and the t.i.tular lieutenant was Pan Sufchinski, of Senchi, a man already old and out of service. Skshetuski had long performed the active duties of both offices,--a condition of service often found in regiments like his, in which the first two places were not infrequently merely t.i.tular offices. Captain in the royal regiment was the king himself; in that of the primate, the primate. The lieutenant and captain in both were high dignitaries of the court. They were actually commanded by deputies, who on this account were called in ordinary speech colonels and lieutenants. Such an actual lieutenant or colonel was Skshetuski. But between the actual filling of the office, between the dignity accorded in current speech and the real one, there was still a great difference. In the present instance, by virtue of his appointment, Skshetuski became one of the first officers of the prince.

But while his friends were overflowing with joy, congratulating him on his new honor, his face did not change for a moment, but remained just the same, severe and stone-like; for there were not offices nor dignities in the world that could brighten it. He rose, however, and went to thank the prince.

Meanwhile little Volodyovski walked up and down in his quarters rubbing his hands. "Well, well," he said, "appointed lieutenant in the hussar squadron in youthful years. I think this has happened to no one before."

"If G.o.d would only return his happiness!" said Zagloba.

"That is it, that is it. Did you see that he did not quiver?"

"He would prefer resigning," said Pan Longin.

"Gentlemen," sighed Zagloba, "what wonder! I would give these five fingers of mine for her, though I captured a banner with them."

"Sure enough."

"But Pan Sufchinski must be dead," remarked Volodyovski.

"He is surely dead."

"Who will take the lieutenancy then? The banneret is a stripling, and performs the duties only since the battle at Konstantinoff."

This question remained unanswered; but the colonel himself, Skshetuski, brought the answer to it when he returned.

"My dear sir," said he to Pan Podbipienta, "the prince has appointed you lieutenant."

"Oh, my G.o.d, my G.o.d!" groaned Pan Longin, placing his hands together as if in prayer.

"He might as well have appointed his Livonian mare," muttered Zagloba.

"Well, and the scouting-party?" asked Volodyovski,

"We shall go without delay," answered Skshetuski.

"Has the prince given orders to take many troops?"

"One Cossack and one Wallachian squadron, five hundred men altogether."

"Hallo! that is an expedition, not a party. If that is the case, it is time for us to take the road."

"To the road, to the road!" repeated Zagloba. "Maybe G.o.d will help us to get some tidings."

Two hours later, precisely at sunset, the four friends rode out from Cholganski Kamen toward the south. About the same time Lashch left the camp with his men. A mult.i.tude of knights from different regiments witnessed his departure, not sparing shouts and sneers. The officers crowded around Pan Kushel, who told the reason why the commander was dismissed, and how it happened.

"I delivered the order of the prince," said Kushel; "and you may believe it was a perilous mission, gentlemen, for when he read it he began to bellow like a bullock when branded with iron. He was rushing at me with a sword,--a wonder he didn't hit me; but it appears that he saw Pan Koritski's Germans surrounding his quarters, and my dragoons with spears in their hands. Then he began to shout: 'All right! all right! I'll go away, since they drive me off. I'll go to Prince Dominik, who will receive me thankfully. I will not,' said he, 'serve with minstrels; but as I am Lashch, I will have vengeance, as I am Lashch; and from that sneak,' said he, 'I must have satisfaction!' I thought he would stifle from venom; he slashed the table from rage time after time. And I tell you, gentlemen, that I am not sure some evil will not come on Skshetuski, for there is no trifling with the commander. He is a stubborn and proud man, who has never yet allowed an offence to pa.s.s. He is daring, and a dignitary besides."

"What can touch Skshetuski under the protection of the prince?" asked one of the officers. "The commander, though ready for everything, will be wary of such a hand."

Meanwhile the lieutenant, knowing nothing of the vows which the commander had made against him, withdrew at the head of his party farther and farther from the camp, turning his way toward Ojigovtsi to the Bug and Medvedovka. Though September had withered the leaves on the trees, the night was calm and warm as in July; for such, indeed, was that whole year, in which there was scarcely any winter, and in spring everything was in bloom at a time when in former years deep snow was still lying on the steppes. After a rather moist summer, the first months of autumn were dry and mild, with clear days and bright moonlight nights. They travelled along the easy road, not taking special care, for they were still too near the camp to be threatened by any attack. They rode briskly; Skshetuski ahead with a few hors.e.m.e.n, and behind him Volodyovski, Zagloba, and Podbipienta.

"Look, gentlemen, how the light of the moon shines on that hill!"

whispered Zagloba. "You might swear that it is day. It is said that only in time of war are there such nights, so that spirits may leave their bodies without knocking their heads against trees in the dark, like sparrows against the cross-pieces in a barn, and more easily find the way. Today is Friday, the day of the Saviour, in which poisonous vapors do not issue from the ground, and evil powers have no approach to men. I feel somehow easier, and hope takes possession of me."

"That is because we are now on the way and will undertake some rescue."

"The worst thing, in grief, is to sit in one place. When you get on horseback, all your despair flies down from the shaking, till you shake it off completely and entirely."

"I do not believe," whispered Volodyovski, "that you can shake off everything in that way,--for example, love, which clings to the heart like a wood-tick."

"If love is genuine," said Pan Longin, "then even if you should wrestle with it as with a bear, it would throw you."

Having said this, Podbipienta relieved his swollen breast with a sigh which was like the puff of a blacksmith's bellows; but little Volodyovski raised his eyes to heaven, as if seeking among the stars that one which was shining on Princess Barbara.

The horses began to snort in the whole company, and the soldiers answered, "Health, health!" Then all was silent till some melancholy voice began to sing in the rear ranks:

"You are going to the war, my boy, You are going to the war!

Your nights will be cold, And your days will be hot--"

"Old soldiers say that horses always snort as a good omen, as my deceased father used to tell me," said Volodyovski.

"Something whispers, as it were, in my ear, that we are not going for nothing," answered Zagloba.

"G.o.d grant that some consolation enter the heart of the lieutenant!"

sighed Pan Longin.

Zagloba began to nod and turn his head like a man who is unable to conquer some idea, and at last said,--

"Something altogether different is in my head, and I must get rid of the thought, for I cannot endure it. Have you noticed that for some time Skshetuski--I am not sure, maybe he dissembles--but still he, as it were, thinks less than any of us of saving that unfortunate lady."

"Nonsense!" said Volodyovski. "It is his disposition never to confess anything to any one. He has never been different."

"Yes, that so far as it goes; but just remember, when we gave him hope, he said, 'G.o.d reward you,' both to me and to you, as coldly as if it had been some common affair. And G.o.d is witness, on his part that was black ingrat.i.tude; for what that poor woman has wept and grieved for him could not be inscribed on an ox-hide. I have seen it with my own eyes."

Volodyovski shook his head. "It cannot be that he has given her up, though it is true that the first time when that devil seized her from him in Rozlogi, he despaired so that we feared he would lose his mind; but now he shows more reflection. If G.o.d has poured peace into his soul, it is better. As true friends, it is our duty to be comforted by this."