The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 2Sienkiewicz, Henryk
History
The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 2
Sienkiewicz, Henryk
Historical fiction; Poland -- History -- John II Casimir, 1648-1668 -- Fiction
“If you, serene great mighty hetman, guarantee this with your office,
it must have been so.”
“It was so!” said the hetman.
And they lacked little of drinking Kmita’s health. But in truth there
were very violent voices against this, especially among the former
officers of Radzivill. Hearing these, the hetman said,—
“And do you know, gentlemen, how this Kmita comes to my mind? Babinich,
the king’s courier, resembles him much. At the first moment I was
mistaken myself.”
Here Sapyeha began to look around with more severity and to speak with
greater seriousness,—
“Though Kmita were to come here himself, since he has changed, since he
has defended a holy place with immense bravery, I should defend him
with my office of hetman. I ask you therefore, gentlemen, to raise no
disturbance here by reason of this newly arrived. I ask you to remember
that he has come here by appointment of the king and the Khan. But
especially do I recommend this to you who are captains in the general
militia, for with you it is harder to preserve discipline.”
Whenever Sapyeha spoke thus, Zagloba alone dared to murmur, all others
would sit in obedience, and so they sat now; but when the hetman’s face
grew gladsome again, all rejoiced. The goblets moving swiftly filled
the measure of rejoicing, and the whole town was thundering till
morning, so that the walls of houses were shaking on their foundation,
and the smoke of salutes veiled them, as in time of battle.
Next morning Sapyeha sent Anusia to Grodno with Pan Kotchyts. In
Grodno, from which Hovanski had long since withdrawn, the voevoda’s
family was living.
Poor Anusia, whose head the handsome Babinich had turned somewhat, took
farewell of him very tenderly; but he was on his guard, and only at the
very parting did he say to her,—
“Were it not for one devil which sits in my heart like a thorn, I
should surely have fallen in love with you to kill.”
Anusia thought to herself that there is no splinter which may not be
picked out with patience and a needle; but she feared somewhat this
Babinich, therefore she said nothing, sighed quietly, and departed.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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