The Deluge. Vol. 2. Генрик Сенкевич

this way!" called he.

      The dispute ceased, the Kyemliches hurried up, and they rode farther four abreast.

      "And do you know the road to the Silesian boundary?" asked Pan Andrei.

      "O Mother of God! we know, we know," answered the old man.

      "There are no Swedish parties on the road?"

      "No, for all are at Chenstohova, unless we might meet a single man; but God give us one!"

      A moment of silence followed.

      "Then you served with Kuklinovski?" asked Kmita.

      "We did, for we thought that being near we might serve the holy monks and your grace, and so it has happened. We did not serve against the fortress, – God save us from that! we took no pay unless we found something on Swedes."

      "How on Swedes?"

      "For we wanted to serve the Most Holy Lady even outside the walls; therefore we rode around the camp at night or in the daytime, as the Lord God gave us; and when any of the Swedes happened alone, then we – that is – O Refuge of sinners! – we – "

      "Pounded him!" finished Kosma and Damian.

      Kmita laughed. "Kuklinovski had good servants in you. But did he know about this?"

      "He received a share, an income. He knew, and the scoundrel commanded us to give a thaler a head. Otherwise he threatened to betray us. Such a robber, – he wronged poor men! And we have kept faith with your grace, for not such is service with you. Your grace adds besides of your own; but he, a thaler a head, for our toil, for our labor. On him may God – "

      "I will reward you abundantly for what you have done," said Kmita. "I did not expect this of you."

      The distant sound of guns interrupted further words. Evidently the Swedes had begun to fire with the first dawn. After a while the roar increased. Kmita stopped his horse; it seemed to him that he distinguished the sound of the fortress cannon from the cannon of the Swedes, therefore he clinched his fist, and threatening with it in the direction of the enemies' camp said, —

      "Fire away, fire away! Where is your greatest gun now?"

      CHAPTER V

      The bursting of the gigantic culverin had really a crushing effect upon Miller, for all his hopes had rested hitherto on that gun. Infantry were ready for the assault, ladders and piles of fascines were collected; but now it was necessary to abandon all thought of a storm.

      The plan of blowing up the cloister by means of mines came also to nothing. Miners brought in previously from Olkush split, it is true, the rock, and approached on a diagonal to the cloister; but work progressed slowly. The workmen, in spite of every precaution, fell frequently from the guns of the church, and labored unwillingly. Many of them preferred to die rather than aid in the destruction of a sacred place.

      Miller felt a daily increasing opposition. The frost took away the remnant of courage from his unwilling troops, among whom terror was spreading from day to day with a belief that the capture of the cloister did not lie within human power.

      Finally Miller himself began to lose hope, and after the bursting of the gun he was simply in despair; a feeling of helplessness and impotence took possession of him. Next morning he called a council, but he called it with the secret wish to hear from officers encouragement to abandon the fortress.

      They began to assemble, all wearied and gloomy. In silence they took their places around a table in an enormous and cold room, in which the steam from their breaths stood before their faces, and they looked from behind it as from behind a cloud. Each one felt in his soul exhaustion and weariness; each one said to himself: "There is no counsel to give save one, which it is better for no man to be the first to give." All waited for what Miller would say. He ordered first of all to bring plenty of heated wine, hoping that under the influence of warm drink it would be easier to obtain a real thought from those silent figures, and encouragement to retreat from the fortress.

      At last, when he supposed that the wine had produced its effect, he spoke in the following words —

      "Have you noticed, gentlemen, that none of the Polish colonels have come to this council, though I summoned them all?"

      "It is known of course to your worthiness that servants of the Polish squadron have, while fishing, found silver belonging to the cloister, and that they fought for it with our soldiers. More than ten men have been cut down."

      "I know; I succeeded in snatching a part of that silver from their hands, indeed the greater part. It is here now, and I am thinking what to do with it."

      "This is surely the cause of the anger of the Polish colonels. They say that if the Poles found the silver, it belongs to the Poles."

      "That's a reason!" cried Count Veyhard.

      "For my mind, it is a strong reason," said Sadovski; "and I think that if you had found the silver you would not feel bound to divide it, not only with the Poles, but even with me, a Cheh."

      "First of all, my dear sir, I do not share your good will for the enemies of our king," answered the count, with a frown.

      "But we, thanks to you, must share with you shame and disgrace, not being able to succeed against a fortress to which you have brought us."

      "Then have you lost all hope?"

      "But have you any yourself to give away?"

      "Just as if you knew; and I think that these gentlemen share more willingly with me in my hope, than with you in your fear."

      "Do you make me a coward, Count Veyhard?"

      "I do not ascribe to you more courage than you show."

      "And I ascribe to you less."

      "But I," said Miller, who for some time had looked on the count with dislike as the instigator of the ill-starred undertaking, "shall have the silver sent to the cloister. Perhaps kindness and graciousness will do more with these surly monks than balls and cannon. Let them understand that we wish to possess the fortress, not their treasures."

      The officers looked on Miller with wonder, so little accustomed were they to magnanimity from him. At last Sadovski said, —

      "Nothing better could be done, for it will close at once the mouths of the Polish colonels who lay claim to the silver. In the fortress it will surely make a good impression."

      "The death of that Kmita will make the best impression," answered Count Veyhard. "I hope that Kuklinovski has already torn him out of his skin."

      "I think that he is no longer alive," said Miller. "But that name reminds me of our loss, which nothing can make good. That was the greatest gun in the whole artillery of his grace. I do not hide from you, gentlemen, that all my hopes were placed on it. The breach was already made, terror was spreading in the fortress. A couple of days longer and we should have moved to a storm. Now all our labor is useless, all our exertions vain. They will repair the wall in one day. And the guns which we have now are no better than those of the fortress, and can be easily dismounted. No larger ones can be had anywhere, for even Marshal Wittemberg hasn't them. The more I ponder over it, the more the disaster seems dreadful. And to think that one man did this, – one dog! one Satan! I shall go mad! To all the horned devils!"

      Here Miller struck the table with his fist, for unrestrained anger had seized him, the more desperately because he was powerless. After a while he cried, —

      "But what will the king say when he hears of this loss?" After a while he added: "And what shall we do? We cannot gnaw away that cliff with our teeth. Would that the plague might strike those who persuaded me to come to this fortress!"

      Having said this, he took a crystal goblet, and in his excitement hurled it to the floor so that the crystal was broken into small bits.

      This unbecoming frenzy, more befitting a peasant than a warrior holding such a high office, turned all hearts from him, and soured good-humor completely.

      "Give counsel, gentlemen!" cried Miller.

      "It is possible to counsel, but only in calmness," answered the Prince of Hesse.

      Miller