The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 1Sienkiewicz, Henryk
History
The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 1
Sienkiewicz, Henryk
Historical fiction; Poland -- History -- John II Casimir, 1648-1668 -- Fiction
They mounted, and moved on at a walk, chewing their anger and shame.
Outside the gate Ranitski, whom rage still held as it were by the
throat, turned and threatened the house with his fist. "Ei! I want
blood! I want blood!"
"If we can only raise a quarrel between her and Kmita," said
Kokosinski, "we shall go through this place yet with fire."
"That may happen."
"God aid us!" added Uhlik.
"Oh, pagan's daughter, mad heath-hen!"
Railing thus, and enraged at the lady, snarling sometimes too at
themselves, they reached the forest. They had barely passed the first
trees when an enormous flock of crows whirled above their heads. Zend
began at once to croak in a shrill voice; thousands of voices answered
him from above. The flock came down so low that the horses began to be
frightened at the sound of their wings.
"Shut your mouth!" cried Ranitski to Zend. "You'll croak out misfortune
on us yet. Those crows are circling over us as over carrion."
The others laughed. Zend croaked continually. The crows came down more
and more, and the party rode as if in the midst of a storm. Fools! they
could not see the ill omen.
Beyond the forest appeared Volmontovichi, toward which the cavaliers
moved at a trot, for the frost was severe; they were very cold, and it
was still a long way to Upita, but they had to lessen their speed in
the village itself. In the broad road of the village the space was full
of people, as is usual on Sundays. The Butryms, men and women, were
returning on foot and in sleighs from Mitruny after receiving
indulgence. The nobles looked on these unknown horsemen, half guessing
who they were. The young women, who had heard of their license in
Lyubich and of the notorious public sinners whom Pan Kmita had brought,
looked at them with still greater curiosity. But they rode proudly in
imposing military posture, with velvet coats which they had captured,
in panther-skin caps, and on sturdy horses. It was to be seen that they
were soldiers by profession,--their gestures frequent and haughty,
their right hands resting on their hips, their heads erect. They gave
the way to no man, advancing in a line and shouting from time to time,
"Out of the road!" One or another of the Butryms looked at them with a
frown, but yielded; the party chatted among themselves about the
village.
"See, gentlemen," said Kokosinski, "what sturdy fellows there are here;
one after another like an aurochs, and each with the look of a wolf."
"If it were not for their stature and swords, they might be taken for
common trash."
"Just look at those sabres,--regular tearers, as God is dear to me!"
remarked Ranitski. "I would like to make a trial with some of those
fellows." Here he began to fence with his hand: "He thus, I thus! He
thus, I thus--and check!"
"You can easily have that delight for yourself," said Rekuts. "Not much
is needed with them for a quarrel."
"I would rather engage with those girls over there," said Zend, all at
once.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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