On the Field of Glory Part 18

"I cry not to Thee: 'take this pain from me,' but I cry 'give me strength to endure it.'

"For I, O Lord, am a soldier submissive to Thy order, and I desire much to serve Thee, and the Commonwealth, my mother-- But how can I do this when my heart is faint and my right hand is weakened?

"Because of this make me forget myself and make me think only of Thy glory, and the rescue of my mother, for those things are of far greater moment than the pain of a pitiful worm, such as I am.

"And strengthen me, O Lord, in my saddle, so that through lofty deeds against pagans I may reach a glorious death, and also heaven.

"By Thy crown of thorns, hear me!

"By the wound in Thy side, hear me!

"By Thy hands and feet pierced with nails, hear me!"

Then they knelt for a long time, but at the middle of the prayer it was evident that the pain in Yatsek's breast had broken, for on a sudden he covered his face with both hands and fell to sobbing. When they had risen and gone to the adjoining chamber Father Voynovski sighed deeply.

"My Yatsek," said he, "I saw much of life in my years of a warrior, during which sorrow greater than thine met me. I have no thought to speak touching this to thee. I will say only that in a time of most terrible anguish I composed this very prayer and to it owe deliverance.

I have repeated it frequently in misfortune since that day, and always with solace; we have repeated it now for this reason. And how dost thou feel? Art thou not freed in some measure? Pray tell me!"

"I feel pain, but it burns less severely."

"Ah, seest thou! Now drink some wine. I will tell thee, or rather I will show thee, something which should give thee comfort. Look!"

And bending his head down he showed beneath his white hair a dreadful scar, which pa.s.sed across his whole crown from one side to the other.

"From that," said he, "I came very near dying. The wound pained me awfully, but the scar gives no trouble. In like manner, Yatsek, thy wound will cease to pain when a scar takes the place of it. Tell me now what has happened to thee."

Yatsek began, but met failure. It was not in his nature to invent, or increase, or exaggerate, so now he himself wondered over this: that all which had torn him with such torture seemed less cruel in the narrative. But Father Voynovski, clearly a man of experience, and knowing the world, heard him out to the end, and then added,--

"It is difficult, I understand that, to describe looks or even gestures which may be altogether contemptuous and insulting. Often even one look, or one wave of the hand, has led men to duels and to bloodshed.

The main point is this: thou hast told the young lady that thou wilt not go back to her. Youth is giddy, and when guided by sadness it changes as the moon in the sky does. And love too is like that mendacious moon, which when it seems to decrease is just growing and swelling toward its fulness. How is it then, hast thou the true wish of doing what thy words tell me?"

"So help me, G.o.d, I have told my whole wish, and if thou desire I will repeat the same in an oath on that cross there."

"And what dost thou think to do?"

"To go into the world."

"I have been hoping for that. I have desired it this long time. I have known what detained thee, but go now. When thou hast broken thy fetters go into the world. Thou wilt wait for no good thing in this place, no good thing has met thee here, or will meet thee here ever. To thee the life here has been ruin. It was a happiness that I was near by and trained thee in Latin, and in working with thy sword even somewhat; without these two kinds of knowledge thou wouldst have dropped down to be a peasant. Thank me not, Yatsus, for that was pure devotion on my part. I shall be sad here without thee, but I am not in question. Thou wilt go into the world. That, as I understand, means that thou wilt join the army. That road is the straightest and the most honorable, also, especially since war with the pagan is approaching. The pen and the chancellery are more certain, men tell us, than promotion from the sabre, but they are less fitted for blood such as thine is."

"I have not thought of another service," said Yatsek, "but I shall not join the infantry, and I cannot in any way reach the higher banners, for I am in terrible poverty--"

"A n.o.ble who has Latin on his tongue and a sabre in his fist will make his way always," interrupted the priest; "but there is no need of talking, thou must have good horses. We must think over this carefully.

Now I will tell thee something of which I have never yet spoken. I hold for thee ten ruddy ducats which thy late mother left with me--and her letter, in which she begs not to give thee this money, lest it be spent ere the time comes. Only in sudden need may I give it when either the ferry or the wagon is awaiting thee--when some dilemma presents itself--well, the dilemma is here at this moment! Thou hadst an honorable, a holy, and an unhappy mother, for when that woman was dying there was great need in her dwelling, and she took from her own mouth that which she left with me."

"G.o.d give eternal rest to her," said Yatsek. "Let those ten ducats be used for ma.s.ses to benefit her soul, and Vyrambki I will sell even for a trifle."

Father Voynovski grew very tender at these words; a tear glistened in his eye, and again he put his arms around Yatsek.

"There is honest blood in thee," said he, "but thou art not free to reject this gift from thy mother, even for the purpose which thou hast mentioned. Ma.s.ses will not be lacking in her case, be sure of that, though in truth she has no great need of them; but to other souls suffering in purgatory they will be of service. As to Vyrambki it would be better to mortgage it; though a n.o.ble has but the smallest estate, how differently do people esteem him from one who is landless."

"But I am in a hurry. I should like to go even to-day."

"To-day thou wilt not go, though the sooner the better. I must write for thee letters to my comrades and friends. We must talk also with the brewers in Yedlina who have money and also good horses, so that no armored warrior may have a better outfit. In my house there are some old arms and some sabres, not so much ornamented as tested on Swedish and Turkish shoulders."

Here the priest looked through the window and said,--

"But the sleigh is waiting, and a traveller should start when his sleigh comes."

An expression of pain now shot over the face of the young man; he kissed the priest's hand and added,--

"I have one other prayer, my benefactor and father; let me go with you now and live in your house till I leave this region. Those roofs are visible from this dwelling. They are too near me."

"Of course! I wished to propose this; thou hast taken the words from my lips. There is no work for thee here, and I shall be glad from my soul to have thee under my roof tree. Be of good cheer, O my Yatsus. The world does not end in Belchantska, but stands open widely before thee.

G.o.d alone knows how far thou wilt ride when once thou art on horseback.

War is awaiting thee! Glory is awaiting thee! and that which pains thee to-day will be healed at another time. I see now how the wings are growing out at thy shoulders. Fly then, O bird of the Lord, for to that wert thou predestined and created."

And joy like a sunray lighted up the honest face of the old man. He struck his thigh with his palm, soldier fashion.

"Now take thy cap and we will go."

But small things stand often in the way of important ones, and the comic is mixed with the tragic. Yatsek glanced round the room; then he gazed with concern at the priest, and repeated,--

"My cap!"

"Well! Thou wilt not go bareheaded--"

"How could I?"

"Where is it?"

"But suppose it remained at Belchantska?"

"There are thy love tricks, old woman! What wilt thou do?"

"What shall I do? I might get a cap from my man, but I could not go in the cap of a peasant."

"Thou canst not go in a peasant's cap, but send thy man to Belchantska."

"I would not for anything."

The priest was becoming impatient.

"Plague take it! War, glory, the wide world--these are all waiting for the man, but his cap is gone!"

"There is an old hat in the bottom of a trunk which my father took from a Swedish officer at Tremeshno--"

"Take it, and let us go."

Yatsek vanished and returned a little later wearing the yellow hat of a Swedish horseman, which was too large for him. Amused by the sight of it, the priest caught at his left side as if seeking his sabre.