The Deluge. Vol. 2. Генрик Сенкевич
give him to me."
"What will you do with him?"
"Ah, I – will tear him alive from his skin."
"You did not know even his real name, you do not know him. What have you against him?"
"I made his acquaintance first in the fortress, where I have been twice as an envoy to the monks."
"Have you reasons for vengeance?"
"Your worthiness, I wished privately to bring him to our camp. He, taking advantage of the fact that I laid aside my office of envoy, insulted me, Kuklinovski, as no man in life has insulted me."
"What did he do to you?"
Kuklinovski trembled and gnashed his teeth. "Better not speak of it. Only give him to me. He is doomed to death anyhow, and I would like before his end to have a little amusement with him, – all the more because he is the Kmita whom formerly I venerated, and who repaid me in such fashion. Give him to me; it will be better for you. If I rub him out, Zbrojek and Kalinski and with them all the Polish knighthood will fall not upon you, but upon me, and I'll help myself. There will not be anger, wry faces, and mutiny. It will be my private matter about Kmita's skin, of which I shall have a drum made."
Miller fell to thinking; a sudden suspicion flashed over his face.
"Kuklinovski," said he, "maybe you wish to save him?"
Kuklinovski smiled quietly, but that smile was so terrible and sincere that Miller ceased to doubt.
"Perhaps you give sound advice," said he.
"For all my services I beg this reward only."
"Take him, then."
Now both returned to the room where the rest of the officers were assembled. Miller turned to them and said, —
"In view of the services of Pan Kuklinovski I place at his absolute disposal this prisoner."
A moment of silence followed; then Pan Zbrojek put his hands on his sides, and asked with a certain accent of contempt, —
"And what does Pan Kuklinovski think to do with the prisoner?"
Kuklinovski bent, straightened himself quickly, his lips opened with an ill-omened smile, and his eyes began to quiver.
"Whoso is not pleased with what I do to the prisoner, knows where to find me." And he shook his sabre.
"Your promise, Pan Kuklinovski," said Zbrojek.
"Promise, promise!"
When he had said this he approached Kmita. "Follow me, little worm; come after me, famous soldier. Thou'rt a trifle weak; thou needst swathing, – I'll swathe thee."
"Ruffian!" said Kmita.
"Very good, very good, daring soul! Meanwhile step along."
The officers remained in the room; Kuklinovski mounted his horse before the quarters. Having with him three soldiers, he commanded one of them to lead Kmita by a lariat; and all went together toward Lgota, where Kuklinovski's regiment was quartered.
On the way Kmita prayed ardently. He saw that death was approaching, and he committed himself with his whole soul to God. He was so sunk in prayer and in his own doom that he did not hear what Kuklinovski said to him; he did not know even how long the road was.
They stopped at last before an empty, half-ruined barn, standing in the open field, at some distance from the quarters of Kuklinovski's regiment. The colonel ordered them to lead Kmita in, and turning himself to one of the soldiers, said, —
"Hurry for me to the camp, bring ropes and a tar bucket!"
The soldier galloped with all the breath in his horse, and in quarter of an hour returned at the same pace, with a comrade. They had brought the requisite articles.
"Strip this spark naked!" ordered Kuklinovski; "tie his hands and feet behind him with a rope, and then fasten him to a beam."
"Ruffian!" said Kmita.
"Good, good! we can talk yet, we have time!"
Meanwhile one of the soldiers climbed up on the beam, and the others fell to dragging the clothes from Kmita. When he was naked the three executioners placed Pan Andrei with his face to the ground, bound his hands and feet with a long rope, then passing it still around his waist they threw the other end to the soldier sitting on the beam.
"Now raise him, and let the man on the beam pull the rope and tie it!" said Kuklinovski.
In a moment the order was obeyed.
"Let him go!"
The rope squeaked. Pan Andrei was hanging parallel with the earth, a few ells above the threshing-floor. Then Kuklinovski dipped tow in the burning tar-bucket, walked up to him, and said, —
"Well, Pan Kmita, did not I say that there are two colonels in the Commonwealth? – only two, I and thou! And thou didst not wish to join company with Kuklinovski, and kicked him! Well, little worm, thou art right! Not for thee is the company of Kuklinovski, for Kuklinovski is better. Hei! a famous colonel is Pan Kmita, and Kuklinovski has him in his hand, and Kuklinovski is roasting his sides!"
"Ruffian!" repeated Kmita, for the third time.
"This is how he will roast his sides!" finished Kuklinovski, and he touched Kmita's side with the burning tow; then he said, —
"Not too much at first; we have time."
Just then the tramp of horses was heard near the barn-door.
"Whom are the devils bringing?" asked Kuklinovski.
The door squeaked and a soldier entered. "General Miller wishes to see your grace at once!"
"Ah! that is thou, old man?" asked Kuklinovski. "What business? What devil?"
"The general asks your grace to come to him straightway."
"Who came from the general?"
"There was a Swedish officer; he has ridden off already. He had almost driven the breath out of his horse."
"I'll go," said Kuklinovski. Then he turned to Kmita: "It was hot for thee; cool off now, little worm. I'll come again soon, we'll have another talk."
"What shall be done with the prisoner?" asked one of the soldiers.
"Leave him as he is. I shall return directly. Let one go with me."
The colonel went out, and with him that soldier who had sat on the beam at first. There remained only three, but soon three new ones entered the barn.
"You may go to sleep," said he who had reported Miller's order to Kuklinovski, "the colonel has left the guard to us."
"We prefer to remain," replied one of the first three soldiers, "to see the wonder; for such a – "
Suddenly he stopped. A certain unearthly sound was wrested from his throat like the call of a strangled cock. He threw out his arms and fell as if struck by lightning.
At the same moment the cry of "Pound" was heard through the barn, and two of the newly arrived rushed like leopards on the two remaining soldiers. A terrible, short struggle surged up, lighted by the gleams of the burning tar-bucket. After a moment two bodies fell in the straw, for a moment longer were heard the gasps of the dying, then that voice rose which at first seemed familiar to Kmita.
"Your grace, it is I, Kyemlich, and my sons. We have been waiting since morning for a chance, we have been watching since morning." Then he turned to his sons: "Now out, rogues, free the colonel in a breath, – quickly!"
And before Kmita was able to understand what was taking place there appeared near him the two bushy forelocks of Kosma and Damian, like two gigantic distaffs. The ropes were soon cut, and Kmita stood on his feet. He tottered at first; his stiffened lips were barely able to say, —
"That is you? – I am thankful."
"It is I!" answered the terrible old man. "Mother of God! Oh – let his grace dress quickly. You rogues – " And he began to give Kmita his clothes.
"The horses are standing at the door," said he. "From