On the Field of Glory Part 12

"I do not remember, benefactor."

"Neither do I remember all, but what I have forgotten I will read in the house to thee. '_Inveni amariorem morte mulierem, quae laqueus_ (says he) _venatorum est et sagena cor ejus_.' (I have found woman more bitter than death. Her heart is a trap and a snare). And farther on he adds something, but at the end he says: '_Qui placet Deo, effugiet illam, qui autem peccator est, capietur ab illa_.' (Whoso is pleasing to G.o.d will escape her, but whoso is a sinner will be caught by her.) I have warned thee not one time but ten not to loiter in that mansion and now the blow strikes thee."

"Eh, it is easier for you to warn than for me not to visit," answered Yatsek, with a sigh.

"Nothing good will meet thee in that house."

"True," said the young man, quietly.

And they went on in silence, but the priest with a face of anxiety, for with his whole soul he loved Yatsek. When his father had died of the pestilence, the young man was left in the world without any near relative, without property, having only a very few serfs in Vyrambki.

The old priest cared for him tenderly. He could not give the youth property, for he with the soul of an angel distributed to the needy all that his poor parish gave him; still, he helped Yatsek in secret, and besides, he watched over him, taught him, not only what was in books, but the whole art of knighthood. For in his day that priest had been a famed warrior, a comrade and friend of the glorious Pan Michael. He had been with Charnyetski, he had gone through the whole Swedish conflict, and only when all had been finished did he put on the robe of a cleric, because of a ghastly misfortune. He loved Yatsek, in whom he valued, not simply the son of a famed knightly family, but a serious, lofty soul, just such as his own was. So he was grieved over the man's immense poverty, and that ill-fated love which had seized him. Because of this love, the young man, instead of seeking bread and fame in the great world of action, was wasting himself and leading a half peasant life in that dark little corner. Hence he felt a determined dislike for the house of Pan Gideon, taking it ill of Pan Gideon himself that he was so cruel to his people. As to Father Voynovski, those "worms of the earth"[2] were as dear as the apple of his eye to him, but besides them he loved also everything living, as well those pets which he scolded, as birds, fish, and even the frogs which croak and sing in the sun-warmed waters during summer.

There walked, however, in that robe of a priest, not only an angel but, besides, an ex-warrior; hence when he learned that his Yatsek must fight with five enemies he thought only of this: how that young man would prosper, and would he come out of the struggle undefeated?

"Thou wilt not yield?" asked he, halting at the threshold, "for I have taught thee what I knew myself, and what Pan Michael showed me."

"I should not like to let them slash me to death," replied Yatsek, with modesty, "for a great war with the Turks is approaching."

At this the eyes of the old man flashed up like stars. In one moment he seized Yatsek by the b.u.t.ton loop of his coat and fell to inquiring,--

"Praised be the name of the Lord! How dost thou know this? Who told thee?"

"Pan Grothus, the starosta," answered the young man.

Long did the conversation of Yatsek continue with the priest, long was his confession till Ma.s.s time, and when at last after Ma.s.s they were both in the house and had sat down to heated beer at the table, the mind of the old man was haunted continually by thoughts of that war with the pagan. Therefore he fell to complaining of the corruption of manners and the decay of devotion in the Commonwealth.

"My G.o.d!" said he, "the field of salvation and glory is open to men, but they prefer private quarrels and the slaughter of one another.

Though ye have the chance to give your own blood in defence of the cross and the faith, ye are willing to spill the blood of a brother.

For whom? for what reason? For personal squabbles, or women, or similar society nonsense. I know this vice to be inveterate in the Commonwealth, and _mea culpa_, for in time of vain sinful youth I myself was a slave to it. In winter camps, when the armies think mainly of idleness and drinking, there is no day without duels; but in fact the church forbids duels, and punishes for fighting them. Duelling is sinful at all times, and before a Turkish war the sin is the greater, for then every sabre is needed, and every sabre serves G.o.d and religion. Therefore our king, who is a defender of the faith, detests duels, and in the field in the face of the enemy, when martial law dictates, they are punished severely."

"But the king in his youth fought more than one, and more than two duels," said Yatsek. "Moreover, what can I do, revered Father? I did not challenge. They called me out. Can I fail to meet them?"

"Thou canst not, and therefore my soul is confounded. Ah, G.o.d will be on the side of the innocent."

Yatsek began to take farewell, for midday was not more than two hours from him, and a road of some length was before him.

"Wait," said the priest. "I will not let thee leave in this fashion. I will have my man make the sleigh ready, put straw in it, and go to the meeting-place. For if at Pan Gideon's they knew nothing of the duel, they will send no a.s.sistance, and how will it be if one of them, or if thou, be wounded severely? Hast thought of this?"

"I have not, and they have not thought, that is certain."

"Ah, seest thou! I will go too. I will not be on the field, I will stay at thy house in Vyrambki. I will take with me the sacrament, and a boy with a bell too, for who knows what may happen? It is not proper for a priest to witness such actions, but except that, I should be there with great willingness, were it only to freshen thy courage."

Yatsek looked at him with eyes as mild as a maiden's. "G.o.d reward,"

said he, "but I shall not lose courage, for even if I had to lay down my life--"

"Better be silent," broke in the priest. "Art thou not sorry not to be nearing the Turk--and not to be meeting a death of more glory?"

"I am, my benefactor, but I shall try that those man-eaters do not gulp me down at one effort."

Father Voynovski thought a moment and added,--

"But if I were to go to the field and explain the reward which would meet them in heaven, were they to die at the hands of the pagan, perhaps they would give up the duel."

"G.o.d prevent!" exclaimed Yatsek. "They would think that I sent thee.

G.o.d prevent! Better that I go to them straightway than listen to such speeches."

"I am powerless," said the priest. "Let us go."

He summoned his servant and ordered him to attach the horse with all haste to the sleigh; then he and Yatsek went out to a.s.sist the man. But when the priest saw the horse on which Yatsek had come, he pushed back in amazement.

"In the name of the Father and the Son, where didst thou find such a poor little creature?"

And indeed at the fence stood a sorry small nag, with s.h.a.ggy head drooping low, and cheeks with long hair hanging down from them. The beast was not greatly larger than a she goat.

"I borrowed it from a peasant. See, how I might go to the Turkish war!"

And he laughed painfully.

To this the priest answered,--

"No matter on what thou goest, if thou come home on a Turkish war-horse, and may G.o.d give thee this, Yatsus; but meanwhile put the saddle on my beast, for thou canst not go on this poor little wretch to those n.o.bles."

They arranged everything then, and moved forward,--the priest with the church boy and bell and a driver for the sleigh, and Yatsek on horseback. The day was monotonous and misty in some sort; for a thaw had settled down and snow covered the frozen ground deeply, but its surface had softened considerably, so that horsehoofs sank without noise and sleigh-runners moved along the road quietly. Not far beyond Yedlina they met loads of wood and peasants walking near them; these people knelt at the sound of the bell, thinking that the priest was going with the Lord G.o.d to a dying man. Then began fields lying next to the forest,--fields white and empty; these were covered with haze.

Flocks of crows were flying over them. Nearer the forest the haze became denser and denser, descended, filled all the s.p.a.ce, and stretched upward. When they had advanced somewhat farther, the two men heard cawing, but the crows were invisible. The bushes at the roadside were ghostlike. The world had lost its usual sharp outlines, and was changed into some kind of region deceitful, uncertain,--delusive and blurred in near places, but entirely unknown in the distance.

Yatsek advanced along the silent snow, thinking over the battle awaiting him, but thinking more over Panna Anulka; and half to himself and half to her he soliloquized in spirit: "My love for thee has been always unchangeable, but I have no joy in my heart from it. Eh! in truth I had little joy earlier from other things. But now, if I could even embrace thy dear feet for one instant, or hear a good word from thee, or even know that thou art sorry if evil befalls me-- All between me and thee is like that haze there before me, and thou thyself art as if out beyond the haze. I see nothing, and know not what will be, nor what will meet me, nor what will happen."

And Yatsek felt that deep sadness was besieging his spirit, just as dampness was besieging his garments.

"But I prefer that all should be ended, and quickly," said he, sighing.

Father Voynovski was attacked also by thoughts far from gladsome, and said in his own mind,--

"The poor boy has grieved to the utmost. He has not used his youth, he has gnawed himself through this ill-fated love of his, and now those Bukoyemskis will cut him to pieces. The other day at Kozenitse they hacked Pan Korybski after the festival. And even though they should not cut up Yatsek, nothing useful can come of this duel. My G.o.d! this lad is pure gold; and he is the last sprout from a great trunk of knightliness. He is the last drop of nourishing blood in his family. If he could only save himself this time! In G.o.d is my hope that he has not forgotten those two blows, one a feint under the arm with a side spring, the other with a whirl through the cheek. Yatsek!"

But Yatsek did not hear, for he had ridden ahead, and the call from the old man was not repeated. On the contrary, he was troubled very seriously on remembering that a priest who was going with the Sacrament should not think of such subjects. He fell then to repenting and imploring the Lord G.o.d for pardon.

Still, he was more and more grieved in his spirit. He was mastered by an evil foreboding and felt almost certain that that strange duel without seconds would end in the worst manner possible for Yatsek.

Meanwhile they reached the crossroad which lay on the right toward Vyrambki, and on the left toward Pan Gideon's. The driver stopped as had been commanded. Yatsek approached the sleigh then and dismounted.

"I will go on foot to the crucifix, for I should not know what to do with this horse while the sleigh is taking you to my house and coming back to me. They are there now, it may be."

"It is not noon yet, though near it," said the priest, and his voice was changed somewhat. "But what a haze! Ye will have to grope in this duel."

"We can see well enough!"

The cawing of crows and of daws was heard then above them a second time.