On the Field of Glory. Генрик Сенкевич

but that fellow has not even a saddle, for the wolves have made bits of it."

      "Besides, he sticks his nose up. What has he against us? Just tell me."

      "Well, ask him."

      "Shall I do it right away?"

      "Eight away, but politely, so as not to offend old Pan Gideon. Only after he has answered can we challenge."

      "And then we shall have him!"

      "Which of us is to do this?"

      "I, of course, for I am the eldest," said Mateush. "I will rub the icicle from my mustache, and then at him!"

      "But remember well what he says to thee."

      "I will repeat every word, like the Lord's prayer."

      Thereupon the eldest Bukoyemski set to rubbing off with his glove the ice from his mustache, and then urging his horse to the horse of Pan Yatsek he called, -

      "My dear Sir?"

      "What?" inquired Yatsek, turning his head from the carriage unwillingly.

      "What have you against us?"

      Yatsek looked at him with astonishment, and answered, -

      "Nothing!" then, shrugging his shoulders, he turned again to the carriage.

      Mateush rode on some time in silence considering whether to return and report to his brothers or speak further. The second course seemed to him better, so he continued, -

      "If thou think to do anything, I say that thou wilt do what thou hast said to me. Nothing!"

      On Yatsek's face was an expression of constraint and annoyance. He understood that they were seeking a quarrel, for which at that moment he had not the least wish whatever. But he found need of some answer, and that of such kind as to end the conversation, so he asked, -

      "Well, thy brothers over there, are they also-"

      "Of course! but what is 'also'?"

      "Think it out thyself and do not interrupt now my more agreeable occupation."

      Mateush rode along the side of the carriage ten or fifteen steps farther. At last he turned his horse.

      "What did he tell thee? Speak out!" said the brothers.

      "There was no success."

      "Because thou didst not know how to handle him," said Lukash. "Thou shouldst have tickled his horse in the belly with thy stirrup, or, since thou knowst his name, have said: 'Yatsek, here is a platsek (a cake) for thee!'"

      "Or said this to him: 'The wolves ate thy horse, buy a he goat in Prityk.'"

      "That is not lost, but what did it mean when he said: 'Are thy brothers also?'"

      "Maybe he wanted to ask if we were fools also."

      "Of course! As God is dear to me!" cried Marek. "He could not think otherwise. But what now?"

      "His death, or ours. As God lives, what he says is open heresy. We must tell Stashko."

      "Tell nothing, for since we give up the young lady to Stashko, Stashko must challenge him, and here the great point is that we challenge first."

      "When? At Pan Gideon's a challenge is not proper. But here is Belchantska."

      In fact Belchantska was not distant. On the edge of the forest stood the cross of Pan Gideon's establishment, with a tin Saviour hanging between two spears; on the right, where the road turned round a pine wood, broad meadows were visible, with a line of alders on the edge of a river, and beyond the alders on the bank opposite and higher, were the leafless tops of tall trees, and smoke rising from cottages. Soon the retinue was moving past cottages, and when it had gone beyond fences and buildings Pan Gideon's dwelling was before the eyes of the horsemen, – a broad court surrounded by an old and decayed picket fence which in places was leaning.

      From times the most ancient no enemy had appeared in that region, so no one had thought defence needful for the dwelling. In the broad court there were two dovecotes. On one side were the quarters for servants, on the other the storehouse, provision rooms, and a big cheese house made of planks and small timbers. Before the mansion and around the court were pillars with iron rings for the halters of horses; on each pillar a cap of frozen snow was fixed firmly. The mansion was old and broad, with a low roof of straw. In the court hunting dogs were rushing around, and among them a tame stork with a broken wing was walking securely; the bird as it seemed had left its warm room a little earlier to get exercise and air in the cold courtyard.

      At the mansion the people were waiting for the company, since Pan Gideon had sent a man forward with notice. The same man came out now to meet them and, bowing down, said to Pan Gideon, -

      "Pan Grothus, the starosta of Raygrod, has come."

      "In God's name!" cried Pan Gideon. "Has he been waiting long for me?"

      "Not an hour. He wished to go, but I told him that you were coming and in sight very nearly."

      "Thou didst speak well." Then he turned to the guests, -

      "I beg you, gentlemen, Pan Grothus is a relative through my wife. He is returning, it is evident, to Warsaw from his brother's, for he is a deputy to the Diet. Please enter."

      After a time they were all in the dining-room in presence of the starosta of Raygrod, whose head almost grazed the ceiling, for in stature he surpassed the Bukoyemskis, and the rooms were exceedingly low in that mansion. Pan Grothus was a showy noble with an expression of wisdom, and the face and bald head of a statesman. A sword scar on his forehead just over the nose and between his two eyebrows seemed a firm wrinkle, giving his face a stern, and, as it were, angry aspect. But he smiled at Pan Gideon with pleasantness, and opened his arms to him, saying, -

      "Well, I, a guest, am now welcoming the host to his own mansion."

      "A guest, a dear guest," cried Pan Gideon. "God give thee health for having come to me, lord brother. What dost thou hear over there now in Warsaw?"

      "Good news of private matters, of public also, for war is now coming."

      "War? How is that? Are we making it?"

      "Not yet, but in March a treaty will be signed with the Emperor, then war will be certain."

      Though even before the New Year there had been whispers of war with the Sultan, and there were those who considered it inevitable, the confirmation of these rumors from the lips of a person so notable, and intimately acquainted with politics as Pan Grothus, imposed on Pan Gideon and the guests in his mansion very greatly. Barely had the host, therefore, presented them to the starosta, when a conversation followed touching war, touching Tököli and the bloody struggles throughout Hungary, from which, as from an immense conflagration, there was light over all parts of Austria and Poland. That was to be a mighty struggle, before which the Roman Cæsar and all German lands were then trembling. Pan Grothus, skilled much in public matters, declared that the Porte would move half of Asia and all Africa, and appear with such strength as the world had not seen up to that day. But these previsions did not injure good-humor in any one. On the contrary they were listened to with rapture by young men, who were wearied by long peace at home, and to whom war presented fields of glory, service, and even profit.

      When Mateush Bukoyemski heard the words of the starosta he so struck his knee with his palm that the sound was heard throughout the mansion.

      "Half Asia, and what in addition?" asked he. "O pshaw! Is that something new for us?"

      "Nothing new, thou speakest truth!" said the host, whose face, usually gloomy, was lighted up now with sudden gladness. "If that question is settled, the call to arms will be issued immediately, and the levies will begin without loitering."

      "God grant this! God grant it at the earliest! Think now of that old Deviantkievich at Hotsim, blind of both eyes. His sons aimed his lance in the charge, and he struck on the Janissaries as well as any other man. But I have no sons."

      "Well, lord brother, if there be any one who can stay at home rightfully you are that person," said the starosta. "It is bad not to have a son in the war, worse not to have an eye, but worst of all not to have an arm."

      "I