Pan Michael Part 64

But her poor head hung without life on his shoulder. Thinking that he held only a corpse in his arms, he began to cry with a ghastly voice,--

"Basia is dead!--dead! Rescue!"

CHAPTER XLII.

News of Basia's arrival flew like a thunderbolt through Hreptyoff; but no one except the little knight, Pan Zagloba, and the serving-women saw her that evening, or the following evenings. After that swoon on the threshold she recovered presence of mind sufficiently to tell in a few words at least what had happened, and how it had happened; but suddenly a new fit of fainting set in, and an hour later, though they used all means to revive her, though they warmed her, gave her wine, tried to give her food, she did not know even her husband, and there was no doubt that for her a long and grievous illness was beginning.

Meanwhile excitement rose in all Hreptyoff. The soldiers, learning that "the lady" had come home half alive, rushed out to the square like a swarm of bees; all the officers a.s.sembled, and whispering in low voices were waiting impatiently for news from the bedroom where Basia was lying. For a long time, however, it was impossible to learn anything.

It is true that at times waiting-women hurried past, one to the kitchen for hot water, another to the dispensary for plasters, ointments, and herbs; but they let no one detain them. Uncertainty was weighing like lead on all hearts. Increasing crowds, even from the village, collected on the square; inquiries pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth; men described Azya's treason, and said that "the lady" had saved herself by flight, had fled a whole week without food or sleep. At these tidings the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of all swelled with rage. At last a wonderful and terrible frenzy seized the a.s.sembly of soldiers; but they repressed it through fear of injuring the sick woman by an outburst.

At last, after long waiting, Pan Zagloba went out to the officers, his eyes red, and the remnant of the hair on his head standing up; they sprang to him in a crowd, and covered him at once with anxious questions in low tones.

"Is she alive; is she alive?"

"She is alive," said the old man; "but G.o.d knows whether she will live an hour."

Here the voice stuck in his throat; his lower lip quivered. Seizing his head with both hands, he dropped heavily on the bench, and suppressed sobbing heaved his breast.

At sight of this, Pan Mushalski caught in his embrace Pan Nyenas.h.i.+nyets, though he cared not much for him ordinarily, and began to moan quietly; Pan Nyenas.h.i.+nyets seconded him at once. Pan Motovidlo stared as if he were trying to swallow something, but could not; Pan Snitko fell to unb.u.t.toning his coat with quivering fingers; Pan Hromyka raised his hands, and walked through the room. The soldiers, seeing through the windows these signs of despair, and judging that the lady had died already, began an outcry and lamentation. Hearing this, Zagloba fell into a sudden fury, and shot out like a stone from a sling to the square.

"Silence, you scoundrels! may the thunderbolts split you!" cried he, in a suppressed voice.

They were silent at once, understanding that the time for lamentation had not come yet; but they did not leave the square. Zagloba returned to the room, quieted somewhat, and sat again on the bench.

At that moment a waiting-woman appeared again at the door of the room.

Zagloba sprang toward her.

"How is it there?"

"She is sleeping."

"Is she sleeping? Praise be to G.o.d!"

"Maybe the Lord will grant--"

"What is the Pan Commandant doing?"

"The Pan Commandant is at her bedside."

"That is well. Go now for what you were sent."

Zagloba turned to the officers and said, repeating the words of the woman,--

"May the Most High G.o.d have mercy! She is sleeping! Some hope is entering me--Uf!"

And they sighed deeply in like manner. Then they gathered around Zagloba in a close circle and began to inquire,--

"For G.o.d's sake, how did it happen? What happened? How did she escape on foot?"

"At first she did not escape on foot," whispered Zagloba, "but with two horses, for she threw that dog from his saddle,--may the plague slay him!"

"I cannot believe my ears!"

"She struck him with the b.u.t.t of a pistol between the eyes; and as they were some distance behind no one saw them, and no one pursued. The wolves ate one horse, and the other was drowned under the ice. O Merciful Christ! She went, the poor thing, alone through forests, without eating, without drinking."

Here Pan Zagloba burst out crying again, and stopped his narrative for a time; the officers too sat down on benches, filled with wonder and horror and pity for the woman who was loved by all.

"When she came near Hreptyoff," continued Zagloba, after a while, "she did not know the place, and was preparing to die; just then she heard the squeak of the well-sweeps, knew that she was near us, and dragged herself home with her last breath."

"G.o.d guarded her in such straits," said Pan Motovidlo, wiping his moist mustaches. "He will guard her further."

"It will be so! You have touched the point," whispered a number of voices.

With that a louder noise came in from the square; Zagloba sprang up again in a rage, and rushed out through the doorway.

Head was thrust up to head on the square; but at sight of Zagloba and two other officers the soldiers pushed back into a half-circle.

"Be quiet, you dog souls!" began Zagloba, "or I'll command--"

But out of the half-circle stepped Zydor Lusnia,--a sergeant of dragoons, a real Mazovian, and one of Pan Michael's favorite soldiers.

This man advanced a couple of steps, straightened himself out like a string, and said with a voice of decision,--

"Your grace, since such a son has injured our lady, as I live, we cannot but move on him and take vengeance; all beg to do this. And if the colonel cannot go, we will go under another command, even to the Crimea itself, to capture that man; and remembering our lady, we will not spare him."

A stubborn, cold, peasant threat sounded in the voice of the sergeant; other dragoons and attendants in the accompanying squadrons began to grit their teeth, shake their sabres, puff, and murmur. This deep grumbling, like the grumbling of a bear in the night, had in it something simply terrible.

The sergeant stood erect waiting for an answer; behind him whole ranks were waiting, and in them was evident such obstinacy and rage that in presence of it even the ordinary obedience of soldiers disappeared.

Silence continued for a while; all at once some voice in a remoter line called out,--

"The blood of that one is the best medicine for 'the lady.'"

Zagloba's anger fell away, for that attachment of the soldiers to Basia touched him; and at that mention of medicine another plan flashed up in his head,--namely, to bring a doctor to Basia. At the first moment in that wild Hreptyoff no one had thought of a doctor; but nevertheless there were many of them in Kamenyets,--among others a certain Greek, a famous man, wealthy, the owner of a number of stone houses, and so learned that he pa.s.sed everywhere as almost skilled in the black art.

But there was a doubt whether he, being wealthy, would be willing to come at any price to such a desert,--he to whom even magnates spoke with respect.

Zagloba meditated for a short time, and then said,--

"A fitting vengeance will not miss that arch hound, I promise you that; and he would surely prefer to have his grace, the king, swear vengeance against him than to have Zagloba do it. But it is not known whether he is alive yet; for the lady, in tearing herself out of his hands, struck him with the b.u.t.t of her pistol right in the brain. But this is not the time to think of him, for first we must save the lady."

"We should be glad to do it, even with our own lives," answered Lusnia.

And the crowd muttered again in support of the sergeant.

"Listen to me," said Zagloba. "In Kamenyets lives a doctor named Rodopul. You will go to him; you will tell him that the starosta of Podolia has sprained his leg at this place and is waiting for rescue.