The Deluge. Vol. 2. Генрик Сенкевич

The Deluge. Vol. 2 - Генрик Сенкевич


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certain morning a panic began in the southwestern trench, for the soldiers had seen distinctly a woman in a blue robe shielding the church and the cloister. At sight of this they threw themselves down on their faces. In vain did Miller ride up, in vain did he explain that mist and smoke had disposed themselves in that form, in vain besides was his threat of court-martial and punishment. At the first moment no one would hear him, especially as the general himself was unable to hide his amazement.

      Soon after this the opinion was spread through the whole army that no one taking part in the siege would die his own death. Many officers shared this belief, and Miller was not free from fears; for he brought in Lutheran ministers and enjoined on them to undo the enchantment. They walked through the camp whispering, and singing psalms; fear, however, had so spread that more than once they heard from the mouths of the soldiers: "Beyond your power, beyond your strength!"

      In the midst of discharges of cannon a new envoy from Miller entered the cloister, and stood before the face of Kordetski and the council.

      This was Pan Sladkovski, chamberlain of Rava, whom Swedish parties had seized as he was returning from Prussia. They received him coldly and harshly, though he had an honest face and his look was as mild as the sky; but the monks had grown accustomed to see honest faces on traitors. He was not confused a whit by such a reception; combing briskly his yellow forelock with his fingers, he began: —

      "Praised be Jesus Christ!"

      "For the ages of ages!" answered the Congregation, in a chorus.

      And Kordetski added at once; "Blessed be those who serve him."

      "I serve him," answered Sladkovski, "and that I serve him more sincerely than I do Miller will be shown soon. H'm! permit me, worthy and beloved fathers, to cough, for I must first spit out foulness. Miller then – tfu! sent me, my good lords, to you to persuade you – tfu! – to surrender. But I accepted the office so as to say to you: Defend yourselves, think not of surrender, for the Swedes are spinning thin, and the Devil is taking them by the eye."

      The monks and the laity were astonished at sight of such an envoy. Pan Zamoyski exclaimed at once: "As God is dear to me, this is an honest man!" and springing to him began to shake his hand; but Sladkovski, gathering his forelock into one bunch, said, —

      "That I am no knave will be shown straightway. I have become Miller's envoy so as to tell you news so favorable that I could wish, my good lords, to tell it all in one breath. Give thanks to God and His Most Holy Mother who chose you as instruments for changing men's hearts. The country, taught by your example and by your defence, is beginning to throw off the yoke of the Swedes. What's the use in talking? In Great Poland and Mazovia the people are beating the Swedes, destroying smaller parties, blocking roads and passages. In some places they have given the enemy terrible punishment already. The nobles are mounting their horses, the peasants are gathering in crowds, and when they seize a Swede they tear straps out of him. Chips are flying, tow is flying! This is what it has come to. And whose work is this? – yours."

      "An angel, an angel is speaking!" cried monks and nobles, raising their hands toward heaven.

      "Not an angel, but Sladkovski, at your service. This is nothing! – Listen on. The Khan, remembering the kindness of the brother of our rightful king, Yan Kazimir, to whom may God give many years! is marching with aid, and has already passed the boundary of the Commonwealth. The Cossacks who were opposed he has cut to pieces, and is moving on with a horde of a hundred thousand toward Lvoff, and Hmelnitski nolens volens is coming with him."

      "For God's sake, for God's sake!" repeated people, overcome as it were by happiness.

      But Pan Sladkovski, sweating and waving his hand, with still more vigor cried, —

      "That is nothing yet! Pan Stefan Charnyetski, with whom the Swedes violated faith, for they carried captive his infantry under Wolf, feels free of his word and is mounting. Yan Kazimir is collecting troops, and may return any day to the country and the hetmans. Listen further, the hetmans, Pototski and Lantskoronski, and with them all the troops, are waiting only for the coming of the king to desert the Swedes and raise sabres against them. Meanwhile they are coming to an understanding with Sapyeha and the Khan. The Swedes are in terror; there is fire in the whole country, war in the whole country – whosoever is living is going to the field!"

      What took place in the hearts of the monks and the nobles is difficult of description. Some wept, some fell on their knees, other repeated, "It cannot be, it cannot be!" Hearing this, Sladkovski approached the great crucifix hanging on the wall and said, —

      "I place my hands on these feet of Christ pierced with a nail, and swear that I declare the pure and clean truth. I repeat only: Defend yourselves, fail not; trust not the Swedes; think not that by submission and surrender you could insure any safety for yourselves. They keep no promises, no treaties. You who are closed in here know not what is passing in the whole country, what oppression has come, what deeds of violent are done, – murdering of priests, profanation of sanctuaries, contempt of all law. They promise you everything, they observe nothing. The whole kingdom is given up as plunder to a dissolute soldiery. Even those who still adhere to the Swedes are unable to escape injustice. Such is the punishment of God on traitors, on those who break faith with the king. Delay! – I, as you see me here, if only I survive, if I succeed in slipping away from Miller, will move straightway to Silesia, to our king. I will fall at his feet and say: Gracious King, save Chenstohova and your most faithful servants! But, most beloved fathers, stand firm, for the salvation of the whole Commonwealth is depending upon you."

      Here Sladkovski's voice trembled, tears appeared on his eyelids, but he spoke further. "You will have grievous times yet: siege guns are coming from Cracow, which two hundred infantry are bringing. One is a particularly dreadful cannon. Terrible assaults will follow. But these will be the last efforts. Endure yet these, for salvation is coming already. By these red wounds of God, the king, the hetmans, the army, the whole Commonwealth will come to rescue its Patroness. This is what I tell you: rescue, salvation, glory is right here – not distant."

      The worthy noble now burst into tears, and sobbing became universal.

      Ah! still better news was due to that wearied handful of defenders, to that handful of faithful servants, and a sure consolation from the country.

      The prior rose, approached Sladkovski, and opened wide his arms. Sladkovski rushed into them, and they embraced each other long; others following their example began to fall into one another's arms, embrace, kiss, and congratulate one another as if the Swedes had already retreated. At last the prior said, —

      "To the chapel, my brethren, to the chapel!"

      He went in advance, and after him the others. All the candles were lighted, for it was growing dark outside; and the curtains were drawn aside from the wonder-working image, from which sweet abundant rays were scattered at once round about. Kordetski knelt on the steps, farther away the monks, the nobles, and common people; women with children were present also. Pale and wearied faces and eyes which had wept were raised toward the image; but from behind the tears was shining on each face a smile of happiness. Silence continued for a time; at last Kordetski began, —

      "Under thy protection we take refuge, Holy Mother of God – "

      Further words stopped on his lips, weariness, long suffering, hidden alarms, together with the gladsome hope of rescue, rose in him like a mighty wave; therefore sobbing shook his breast, and that man, who bore on his shoulders the fate of the whole country, bent like a weak child, fell on his face, and with weeping immeasurable had strength only to cry: "O Mary, Mary, Mary!"

      All wept with him, but the image from above cast brightest rays.

      It was late at night when the monks and the nobles went each his own way to the walls; but Kordetski remained all night lying in the chapel in the form of a cross. There were fears in the cloister that weariness might overpower him; but next morning he appeared on the bastions, went among the soldiers and the garrison, glad and refreshed, and here and there he repeated, —

      "Children, the Most Holy Lady will show again that she is mightier than siege guns, and then will come the end of your sorrows and torments."

      That morning Yatsek Bjuhanski,


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