For the Right Part 34

Taras grew deadly white, staggering as though he had received a blow.

"Is--is it--true?" he said, stammering with the shock of it.

But Stas fell to the ground at his feet. "Forgive it--this once," he faltered. "The money tempted me. Ah, mercy!"

Taras pa.s.sed his hand across his brow. "Where is the purse?" he said, hollow-voiced.

The man, still kneeling, produced it.

"Take it, judge ... count it."

"Seventeen florins," reported the old man.

"Well, put it with the rest." He spoke hoa.r.s.ely, a fearful agitation convulsing his frame. "Stas," he said, presently, with the same choking voice, "I grieve for you with all my heart. You have known much trouble, it is hard to see you end so ignominiously. But I cannot save you--say your prayers, Stas!"

"Ah, mercy!" groaned the unhappy man, the others joining: "Yes, hetman, forgive him this once!"

"I cannot--dare not," said Taras, breathing hard and wiping the dews from his forehead. "I would--ah, how gladly would I forgive him!--but this sacred cause!... Say your prayers, man."

"Mercy!" moaned Stas once more, and fell in a swoon. Taras stepped back, and, pointing his pistol, lodged a bullet in the motionless head.

The man was dead on the spot. A cry of horror went round the room, and silence settled, the larks outside continuing their song of praise.

"He was unable to commend his soul to G.o.d, let us do so for him," said Taras, with the same husky voice. He crossed himself, and with quivering lips spoke a prayer for the dead, the others repeating it after him, awe-struck.

"Let us be gone now!"

They left the chamber of death, calling together their men, and mounted their horses. But the captain's face continued white and fearfully rigid.

"How shall we thank you!" said the judge.

"Not at all," returned Taras, sternly. "For if I had done it for your own sakes merely, I could but turn the pistol against myself now!" He spurred his horse, making for the manse, where Nashko and his men stood ready to mount.

"Three of us have fallen," reported the Jew, "and we killed fourteen of the soldiers. I used every precaution, but----"

"Have we any wounded?" interrupted the captain.

"No--that is, one man is slightly hurt; but able to mount horse."

"Let us start, then; the people here will see to our dead."

And away they went in a sharp gallop in the direction of Colomea. They followed the high-road at first, but, turning off at right angles, presently plunged into the pathless heath which they traversed at a furious pace, reaching the village Nazurna just as the thin-voiced church bell was tinkling out the hour of noon.

It is but a poor place, amid all the characteristics of heath-country; there are a few farms at great distances one from another, and not greatly thriving, for the soil is unproductive, forming part of the sterile table-land between the valleys of the Pruth and the Czerniawa.

A couple of miles beyond the village there is a large moor called the Wallachian Bog, where, according to tradition, in the frontier wars between Poland and Roumania a regiment on the march was sucked down and suffocated in broad daylight. And nothing is more likely, for it is treacherous ground indeed, and even the experienced eye is at a loss to distinguish where the firm land ceases and marshy soil begins, since not only the latter, but the safe earth as well, is covered with sedge gra.s.s and willows far and wide. The waters nowhere rise to the surface, and tall trees growing on little islets complete the deception; a larger island covered with beech wood forms the centre of the moor, and is to be reached only by a narrow strip of solid soil which connects it with the firmer land.

Thither Taras led his band; he was acquainted with the bog and the island, with its overgrown and all but secret entrance, from the days when he had been in service at Hankowce, not far distant. It was an admirable place for his purpose, and not the most experienced military engineer could easily have secured a better position for a troop of hors.e.m.e.n in constant danger of being attacked by numerically superior forces, and in need of a safe resting-place to which they might retire after their raids, than this spot formed, not by the art of man, but by a freak of nature. The extreme loneliness of the neighbourhood lessened every chance of discovery; while even a body of men under hot pursuit could vanish thither as though disappearing by magic, and the narrow entrance at the worst could be held against almost any odds. It was natural then that the "avenger" should have taken his men to this place of refuge on many an occasion, so that to this day it goes by the popular name of "Taras's Retreat."

Cautiously, and not without trouble could the men in the first instance take the horses across the shrub-grown neck of land to the island, where they might rest and take food after that grim night and the hard ride since. Yet sleep came to very few of them, an unusual agitation counteracting even the inviting shade of the kindly beeches. A strange humour, something between the madness of utter recklessness and the dejection of inward disapproval, filled the minds of some. For there were those among them that had never shed blood, nor stood in danger of death themselves, and who seemed to understand all at once that the outlaw's business was desperate work; they grew thoughtful and somewhat penitent, endeavouring to conquer these sensations by breaking into noisy song, or by a.s.suring each other that no doubt the coming night would be "jollier" still. But others, whose past experience had fortified them against the proceedings at Kossowince, felt regretful on a different score. It had not surprised them that Taras should have forbidden plunder under pain of death, for that was the way of every new hetman forming a band of hajdamaks; but that he should go to the length of refusing an offering of grat.i.tude for service rendered, and that he should have found it necessary to shoot that poor devil of a Stas for the sake of a handful of florins, was beyond their comprehension. And thus they came to inquire what bound them to this man, who by sheer strength of will had forced them to acknowledge a wretched Jew as one fit to lead them; whose foolish notions had offended the people of Zulawce, and who actually appeared to expect his followers to risk their lives for his ideas, and for no earthly gain beyond the barest daily bread. But the power which Taras exercised even over these low natures was such that they hardly dared breathe these thoughts to themselves, far less to each other. They lay, gloomy and silent, in the tall sedge-gra.s.s, till one of them, suddenly jumping up, started a request for Karol WyG.o.da's bagpipe, at the squeaks and screams of which their darker thoughts receded. One apprehension, however, that might or might not yield to their merriment, was common to all--the near prospect of death. The band which had started so full of spirits from the Crystal Springs had already lost every tenth man of its numbers, and if the attack of a mere ill-defended country place required such sacrifice, what might not be the result of the coming night, when they would enter the well-garrisoned district town? It was for this reason that more than one among them, now joining madly in the dance, would turn aside suddenly with a strange tremor, to conquer which they would halloo the more wildly on resuming the measured pace.

Taras alone appeared unmoved. With the greatest composure he made his arrangements for the night, his bearing and his voice showing as little of emotion as if he had stood in his own farmyard giving orders for the cutting of the wheat. It quite distressed Nashko, for he felt certain that the carnage of the past night had left a fearful burden on the heart of his friend. He was anxious to lessen it, and when Taras beckoned to him to receive his instructions he did his utmost to show that neither the orders given nor their execution could be blamed for the sad results.

"Seventeen lives," he said, regretfully; "it is terrible, indeed! But I think I may say I did my very best to carry out your desire that bloodshed if possible should be avoided. It was the watchfulness of the sentry that frustrated our intention; the man gave the alarm at once, rousing the others, and since I could not leave them time to arm themselves fully, I was obliged to dash into action within the manse itself, in order to overpower them before they had a chance of benefiting by their numbers and superior equipment. It was the close encounter in rooms and pa.s.sages--in all but darkness, moreover--which resulted in so many slain. There were no wounded, simply because in this desperate fray neither they nor we could have offered or accepted quarter. It was only when the torches were lit--and you may be sure this was done as quickly as possible--only when the soldiers could see that further resistance was madness, the sparing of life became possible; and you may believe me that from that moment not a single life----"

"All right," interrupted Taras, preparing to move away.

The Jew looked at him bewildered. "You are impatient of listening!" he said. "I thought your heart was breaking because of----"

"All right," repeated Taras, quietly. "You have done your duty. And for the rest--what does it matter? Ten lives more or less--what can it matter, since things are what they are?"

But the smile playing about his lips alarmed Nashko even more than the calm he understood not. "Taras," he cried, "this is not your own true feeling!"

"Do you think so?" returned the hetman coldly, the same terrible smile distorting the solemn and yet gentle beauty of his face. "I am not so sure."

He turned away abruptly to appoint the order of sentries until nightfall; when all was settled he expressed his desire to be left undisturbed. "I am going to have a few hours' sleep now," he said, and retiring to the other side of the island, he threw himself into the waving gra.s.s, where he lay motionless.

A good many eyes followed him enviously. "Humph!" said one of the men, "one would think he is as little used to butchering as ourselves, and he has set this business going, with his own hand even killing a man who could not defend himself; yet look at him, sleeping like an innocent babe, while conscience with us is a wakeful trouble!"

Only Nashko and old Jemilian knew how it was ...

Not till towards eight o'clock, when night was falling, did Taras once more mingle with his men. The command was given, and cautiously as before the horses were led through the tangled growth of the slip of land. On reaching the other side the procession formed. Their way would shortly bring them into more densely-peopled districts, and there was every likelihood that the news from Kossowince by this time had reached the district town, so that caution was doubly needful. Taras divided his men into three separate troops, himself heading the vanguard; to the Royal Eagle he entrusted the leadership of the second and strongest division, while Nashko should bring up the rear. They were to keep within earshot of each other. The signal was given, and the vanguard set off at a quick trot, followed in due order by Julko and the Jew.

They rode on well through the dark and silent night, due west at first over the desolate heath, till they reached the track between Nazurna and Kornicz, which they took. The heavens were veiled with low-hanging clouds; the air was heavy and sultry; the darkness appeared to grow deeper, and the path at length could hardly be distinguished. Taras kept whistling distrustfully at short intervals; the counter-signals from the two other leaders at first were given in return almost immediately and in due order, but one of the whistlers behind appeared to fall back, and presently his signal showed him in a wrong direction altogether.

Much as delay was undesirable, Taras had to stop, and even to turn back. He soon came upon the main body, but not without trouble could the straying rear guard be brought up. Nashko had missed the path on the heath, following a northerly track, and when the captain's signals sounded more and more faintly, he believed the divisions in front to have quickened their pace, and ordered his men to spur on their horses, thus, of course, falling away all the further.

Upon this Taras resolved to keep his forces together, as the least dangerous plan in the circ.u.mstances. Recovering their direction, they pa.s.sed several homesteads, and presently heard the roaring of the Wilchowec, which carries the waters of the Dobrowa Forest in a succession of cataracts to the Pruth. There a new mishap awaited them.

They had missed the only bridge spanning the turbulent stream, and were at a loss to decide whether they ought to seek it above or below them.

"Let some of us ride up the river and some down, and those that find the bridge can signal for the others," proposed Julko.

"No," said Taras, "that were losing time. The Wilchowec must be fordable somewhere. I saw a light burning in the cottage we just pa.s.sed. I will go for a guide."

And, followed by two or three of his men, he galloped back and halted in front of a lighted window. In a low-ceiled room a peasant was seen sitting beside his wife, showing her delightedly a handful of silver coin. It was an elderly man, white-haired, and with a rubicund countenance. "Hail, old fellow!" cried Taras, tapping at the window.

The peasant started, extinguishing the torchlight inside the room, while the woman screamed, and then all was still.

"There is no cause for alarm!" cried Taras, "we beg a kindness of you, that is all."

"What, so late at night," said the peasant within. "Have the goodness to let us sleep in peace."

"You have not been asleep yet," Taras called back, growing impatient.

"You were counting your earnings. There is no fear of our robbing you; indeed, I will add to your gains if you show us the place where the river can be forded."

"Why should you want to ford it, when there is a bridge not more than a mile distant, down stream? You cannot miss it, since the hussars there are keeping a good watch fire."

"The hussars!" cried Taras, startled.

"Yes, the hussars," repeated the peasant. "You don't seem to like it.

And I must say it would not be advisable for highwaymen to try to cross the bridge to-night."