For the Right

by Karl Emil Franzos

CHAPTER XVII.

[SIGNS OF FAILURE.]

About the very time when the authorities at Colomea were holding their war council, a remarkable occurrence took place at Zulawce. It was Ascension Day, and a general meeting had been called.

The men of Zulawce were in a difficulty of their own; for, while all the rest of the parishes within the disturbed district were at least free to side either with the Government or with the avenger, as seemed best to suit their temper or their interests, the people of Zulawce could do neither. They considered they had done with Taras; for had he not insulted them beyond forgiveness by refusing to rid them of the soldiers? But no less implacable was their resentment against the authorities who had inflicted the soldiers upon them; and even after the company had withdrawn its hateful presence, they continued in a high state of ill-humour and uncertainty of mind, which rendered them unfit for any united action. It was this very want of decision, however, which proved helpful to Father Leo in his strenuous efforts to prevent any deed of violence; for though there were few among them that would not have loved to see the manor plundered or set on fire, now that it was left at their mercy, none quite dared to assume the responsibility of taking the lead in such an act. Still, this, or any similar outrage, might any day be looked for; and since the helpless Jewgeni did nothing for the maintenance of order, Father Leo, assisted by some of the more steady-going of his parishioners, succeeded in bringing together a sort of committee, which was to take in hand the settlement of affairs in the distracted village. The six men, however, upon whom this office devolved did not at first seem more likely to arrive at a united opinion with whom to cast in their sympathy than the parish at large had been; but they managed by degrees to sink differences in a sort of compromise of a peculiar kind, and quite unprecedented even in the history of that remarkable people. The resolution arrived at ran as follows:--

"This is to give notice that since Taras has left us in the lurch, and the men of the law have wronged us, we repudiate them both now and evermore! It is their fault if we men of Zulawce, in this time of trouble, have come to the conclusion that we had better in future be our own administrators, recognising no one in authority over us, save the judge of our own choosing. We intend henceforth to pay neither tax nor tribute to any outsider, and we shall render forced labour to no man; but we will live justly and peaceably, wronging none either in life or property. We insist on taking back the field which belongs to us; but we will guard the manor as carefully as though it were left to the parish in trust by one of ourselves absent for a time." So then the committee of affairs at Zulawce, after this fashion, and quite ignorant of its classical prototypes, had arrived at the idea of the republic, proposing Simeon Pomenko as the fittest man to preside as "free judge" over the parish interests.

The announcement was received enthusiastically, and on the day in question all the community once more had gathered beneath the linden, where the new order of things was to be promulgated. The place was as crowded as on the Palm Sunday when Taras had made his memorable speech. Two only were absent--Father Leo, who of course could not officially acknowledge this change of government, although he would not deny that for the present it seemed the likeliest arrangement for arriving at anything like order in the parish; and she whom he had termed the most unhappy widow of the place, poor Anusia, who since that service on Easter Sunday had left the house only when her presence was absolutely necessary about the farm. She continued an object of interest, and was talked about daily; but, with natural tact, the villagers forebore troubling her with calls, and passed her in silence when they met on the rare occasions of her being about the fields; for even the roughest of them felt that her sorrow, and the silent dignity with which she bore it, commanded their reverence. And it redounds not a little to the honour of that wild community, that even on the day when their fury ran highest, when Wassilj and Hritzko had returned with Taras's answer, none had thought of casting it up to the widow, or of offering her any insult whatever.

The bearing of the assembly was grave and even solemn. "Men and brothers," said Simeon, "it would be a disgrace if we could not rule ourselves and re-establish order in this village of ours! The country is full of uproar and sedition; let peace and honest labour have their place here--so be it!" On account of the intended independence of the community, and because of the pressure of the times, there would naturally be an increase of parish business; and it was resolved therefore that three elders henceforth would be required, and they were nominated. Alexa Sembrow was to act as "home minister,"--the common field and the fair distribution of its produce should be his especial care; while Wassilj, the butcher, should see to the external safety of the place; Wilko Sembratowicz, the third of the number, serving as treasurer.

This arranged, the assembly fell into a procession, and with bared heads proceeded to the field of strife, amid the ringing of bells and the solemn strains of the Te Deum. The "free judge" and his elders led the march, and with their own hands, while the singing continued, they pulled the black cross from its present place, replanting it where it had stood formerly, at three feet distance from the river. This done, the four white-haired men fell on their knees, and, spreading forth their arms, thrice kissed the recovered soil, all the people doing likewise, amid sobs and tears.

After which Simeon stepped forth, saying: "I require every one here to witness, as I also ask Him above, that we have only taken back that which belongs to us by right, and which was taken from us by a wicked fraud.... We pray Thee, Thou Ruler above, to prevent such fraud in the future, and we will fight to the death rather than permit it again. This is our solemn oath!"

"Our solemn oath!" repeated the men in chorus, lifting their right hands. And with faces beaming with satisfaction the people returned to the village.

Nor was their confidence at all lowered for some little time. The word of the free judge seemed being fulfilled, peace and diligence continuing here, while bloodshed and misery spread over the land. Neither was the village interfered with for changing its constitution, the authorities and the troops having more than enough on their hands already. No illusion had prevailed at that war council at Colomea concerning the difficulty of dealing with the bandits; but the utter failure of all operations hitherto exceeded even the worst anticipations. In fact, the chance had never yet offered for having even a brush with the enemy; and although the flying columns continued to scour the land, never a hajdamak did they set eyes upon. They somehow always arrived just too late, or they sought for them on the banks of the Dniester while they did their work by the Pruth; or strove to protect the east of the province, where the avenger had just been heard of, while Taras quietly, but surely, carried out his judgments in the west. It seemed altogether useless that the number of soldiers out against him was doubled, and even trebled, by the arrival of further troops; and nothing seemed to come of spending large sums of money upon private spies, when the mandatars and others grew shy of giving their information, lest they should suffer for it sooner or later. Taras, with all the machinery of Government against him, continued his awful work, utterly undisturbed, all through May and June; nor did the presence of soldiers throughout the troubled districts hinder him in the least from extending his raids far and wide, and making his power felt in every direction. And, in spite of the almost appalling penetration he showed in singling out his victims, never mistaking the innocent for the guilty--in spite of his repeated injunctions to the peasantry to forbear from acts of violence themselves, and to render every just tribute conscientiously--the terror at the jurisdiction he had established, as it were, in the face of the law, and which one would scarcely have conceived possible within the boundaries of a powerful, well-ordered State, grew and spread till nothing short of a panic filled the length and breadth of the land. The authorities had to listen to the wildest reproaches of the excited people, although they strained every nerve in the execution of their duty. But with all their honest efforts they could not even suggest an explanation of the means by which this strange bandit was holding his ground against them. With their erroneous notions concerning his numbers, their absolute ignorance of his hiding-places--of which the bog-island near Nazurna was the most important--and not in the least aware to what extent the peasantry aided and abetted him as his willing informers, the speed and temerity of his movements could not but be a mystery. He seemed everywhere and nowhere, and did his work with impunity. By the middle of July four thousand soldiers were out against him, and yet it appeared hopeless to look for an ending of this reign of terror.

Now the men of Zulawce watched this state of affairs rather with satisfaction than otherwise. For the more useless military intervention appeared, the greater was their confidence in being able to maintain their self-constituted liberty unmolested. But all of a sudden the day dawned that should teach them it was not so easy to break away from the leading-strings of sovereignty.

It was a dull, grey morning in July; rain was pouring in endless streams. The sodden roads were deserted, and so were the fields. The two fellows whom Wassilj, the butcher, had placed by the toll-booth near the river, did stay at their post, it is true, for the place was dry and comfortable enough, but instead of keeping a careful look-out, they had retired to their pallets and were snoring blissfully. These somnolent youths started suddenly, rubbing their eyes, for heavy footfalls on the wooden bridge had broken on their slumbers; they stared, wondering if they could be dreaming; but no, it was flat reality--they even recognised the face of the officer who was leading hither his men, Captain Stanczuk. They rushed from the booth, fired off their muskets by way of giving the alarm, and, racing towards the village, they kept shouting at the top of their voices. The soldiers had to slacken their pace on account of the fearful state of the roads, so that the youths reached the village a good while before them.

And when Captain Stanczuk brought up his men in sight of the inn, he found the road barricaded by some overturned waggons, while bundles of faggots were being heaped up hastily, and some fifty men stood with muskets levelled, ready to defend the place. Now Stanczuk had special orders to avoid bloodshed, if possible; but his kindly prudence hardly required such instruction. He stopped the advance of his men within a hundred yards of the villagers, and, riding on by himself fearlessly, requested to parley with the judge.

"My father is not here yet," replied Hritzko. "But there will be no parleying, save by means of bullets."

"Well," replied the captain, quietly, "if you set so little store by your lives, I cannot help it. But not being such a foolhardy idiot myself I think I will just wait for your father's pleasure." And turning his horse, he rode back to his men.

He had to wait a considerable while, but not in vain. The number of men holding the barricade had, indeed, increased till almost every man of the village was present, and nearly all were in a belligerent mood; but behind them their wives were lamenting, preparing the way for the pope's and the judge's influence. It would be no more than good sense, these urged, to hear first what the officer might have to say; and after some altercation it was agreed that Simeon, with his son and the three elders, should accompany Father Leo to the soldiers.

The captain rode forth to meet them. "Good day to your reverence, and good day to you all!" he said, smiling pleasantly. "I have been waiting patiently for an explanation of this nonsense! Don't you think you are rather foolish, considering the times?"

The half-bantering tone of his address somewhat disconcerted them, but after a pause the judge returned: "Then what are you here for, captain? If you have any idea of calling us to order after your fashion, we'll just defend ourselves. And as for the field we have taken back----"

"Your fields are no business of mine," said the officer, as blandly as before, "and you may continue King of Zulawce yet awhile, my good friend. My present orders concern no one but Anusia Barabola and her children. I have to arrest them, and take them to Colomea."

"That shall never be!" cried Hritzko furiously, and even Father Leo flushed crimson with indignation.

"It would be nothing short of a dastardly wrong, captain!" he exclaimed. "I pledge my life that the poor woman has no share whatever in her husband's doings."

The honest officer winced. "Your reverence is aware," he said, lowering his voice, "that the soldier's duty is to obey his orders, and not to question them."

"And the poor children, are they to be held accountable for their father?"

"I have to obey my instructions," repeated Stanczuk; "and if your reverence will use your influence and prevent any interference with my duty, you will but act in accordance with the sacred office you bear."

The pope was silent; but even if he had shared the officer's views and fallen in with his suggestion as to his influence, he would have had little chance of exercising it. For the peasants had decided for themselves, old Simeon stepping forth, saying as he crossed himself: "Sir captain, while there is a man alive here to defend her, you shall not lay hands on this unhappy woman and her children. We are fully aware that we endanger our own wives and children in opposing you, but we cannot help it. Why, we should deserve to be struck dead on the spot if we suffered such wickedness against the widow and her orphans. There, you may do your duty--we shall do ours!"

He turned to go, but the captain touched his arm, almost pleadingly. "Have you really considered," he cried, "what misery your refusal may bring on this village? There is bloodshed enough in these days; do not add to it, I pray you. Go and consult the people--I will wait."

But Simeon shook his head and turned away without another word, followed by the rest of them, Father Leo included. When they had reached the barricade and informed the people of the demand made upon them, there was but one voice of indignant refusal. Anusia's servant, Halko, rushed off towards the farm, but all the rest of the men stood like a wall, crying: "You have spoken well, judge, we will never permit it!" And the women ceased wailing, but Father Leo, with speechless agony, folded his hands, looking on.

Hritzko took the command, and the peasants, besides holding several of the cottages near, stationed themselves all about the raised ground on which the church stood, where they found ample cover. They knelt with muskets levelled, prepared to fire.

"Let them approach within thirty paces," cried Hritzko, "and, at a sign from my whistle, receive them with a volley. Be ready!"

The captain waited for twenty minutes, and then, sorely against his will, drew his sword, and heading his men, gave the word to advance. The drums beat, the men started at the double, with bayonets fixed.

The peasants, in accordance with the orders received, allowed them to approach without firing. The soldiers had reached Wilko's cottage, when Hritzko lifted the whistle to his mouth. But before he could give the sign, a hand was laid on his arm, pressing it down with a good deal of force. "You shall not fire!" a loud voice was heard to say peremptorily; "I will not have it!"

The young man started amazed. Before him, tall and commanding, stood the wife of Taras, with little Tereska on her arm; an old woman-servant followed with the little boys, sobbing piteously. The children, too, were crying. But Anusia, though pale, was calm as death; she stood erect, and her face bore that expression of stony composure which, ever since that terrible Palm Sunday, appeared to have taken the place of her naturally passionate disposition. "I will not have a shot fired," she said; "I shall go with the soldiers."

"Anusia!" exclaimed Simeon, "will you deliver up yourself and your poor children to certain death?"

"We are all in God's hand," she said. "For my sake no wife shall be made a widow, no child fatherless." ... And, turning to the servant, she added, "Come!"

But Captain Stanczuk had understood the strange scene, and ordered his men to halt. The peasants, too, were standing motionless with surprise. Anusia deliberately went up to the officer. "Here I am," she said, "and here are my children."

But the gallant soldier, on looking into the tearless, grief-bound face of that poor peasant woman, was filled with a sensation of awe the like of which he had never known before. He felt as though he must bend the knee as to a queen or empress. "Come," he said, reverently, "we brought a carriage for you."

She nodded, and forthwith would have moved towards the vehicle, which followed in the rear; but the villagers had recovered themselves, and were pressing round her. The officer nowise interfered, for he could see in their faces that they intended no further enmity. They surrounded her, deeply moved, some even sobbing when she lifted her children into the carriage as it drew up, and others kissed her garment, crying, "Farewell, Anusia! we shall never forget it!" Father Leo breaking out passionately, "You are a brave woman; no saint ever did a greater thing for her people--it shall not be forgotten, indeed.... And your farm shall be cared for, we shall be proud to do it!"

"Thank you," she said, gently, and could no longer forbid her tears, the big drops running down her face: but soon the rigid calm returned. "I am quite ready," she said to the officer.

The drums beat, and the procession started, down to the river and across the bridge, towards the distant town.

At dusk the following day they arrived at Colomea, and that same evening Anusia was ushered into the presence of the governor.

That honest, stout-hearted gentleman had looked forward to this hour as to the bitterest trial of his life, and had indeed resisted it as long as he could; but his remonstrances with the governor of the province had been fruitless, though seconded by every magistrate of the district; and even their united request to be dismissed rather than forced to obey in this matter availed not. The Lemberg authorities had returned word that no doubt the question of their dismissal might be considered in due time, but for the present they must keep to their posts, obeying their superiors. And thus the high-minded old governor had been obliged with his own hand to draw up the order for an arrest, which in his eyes was the worst act of violence yet committed; but having done this, he insisted on conducting the inquiry himself, lest the wrong he could not help should be carried out harshly. Mr. Wenceslas Hajek by this time had recovered his sprits sufficiently to quit his voluntary retreat in the city gaol for his own chambers, and the apartment he had occupied--not really a cell, but a private room of the chief warder's--had been made ready for Anusia, the governor himself superintending the arrangements and giving various directions for her comfort. This done, he returned to his office, awaiting her coming with a beating heart.

She entered, but he scarcely found courage to look up, busying himself with a sheet of paper to hide his emotion.

"Are you cognisant of your husband's crimes, or aiding him in any way?"

"No, sir."

"I am forced, nevertheless, to keep you in custody; but I will have you well treated. I shall daily inquire after your own and your children's well-being."

He waved his hand, and Anusia was taken back to her place of confinement. The old man remained by himself, pacing his office for the best part of an hoar, deeply agitated; now gesticulating with his hands, now talking wildly. Having calmed down a little, he returned to his desk to make his report to the Provincial Governor, adorning it with all the flourishes approved of by the profession of the period; but he took care that his dutiful letter should end with these words: "Never again may a representative of the law within this realm of Austria feel himself thus lowered in the eyes of the accused brought to his bar, and may his excellency, the Governor-Provincial, not find cause to lament the consequences of this measure!"

But even before his note of warning could reach the ears it was meant for, the thunderbolt of vengeance had fallen--fearfully, terribly indeed! On the second night after Anusia's arrival at the city gaol the district governor was roused from sleep--a certain clerk, Joseph Dorn by name, had arrived with news that brooked no delay.

The poor governor positively shook with apprehension; for that clerk had been ordered to accompany one of the stipendiary magistrates, who in the morning had set out to the village of Jablonow, where a certain matter had to be settled by local evidence. The gentleman's name was Hohenau, he being a worthy German from the Rhine, advanced in years, and universally respected for his integrity. Now, although, after the attack upon Kapronski, Taras had not again laid hands on any officer of the law, the governor decided, nevertheless, that Hohenau, whom he loved as a friend, should not undertake the journey, short as it was, without a special escort of forty dragoons. He was expected to return late at night; what if the clerk had come back without him!... The governor tried to battle with this thought as with an apparition. "Nonsense!" he said; "what should have happened?" and he stepped boldly into his ante-room. But one look into the man's face showed him that his fears were only too well founded. That clerk, who had served half his life as a sergeant of the constabulary, till pensioned off to his present post, and who was not likely to grow faint at the sight of a shadow, was leaning against the wall, white as death, and trembling in every limb.

"He has been killed?" gasped the governor.

"He has!" groaned the clerk.

Herr von Bauer, too, grew faint, catching at a chair-back for support. At that moment he experienced that most painful of all bodily sensations, which, though common enough as a figure of speech, is rare in actual fact, and not likely to be forgotten by the luckless mortal that ever underwent it! The poor old governor felt his scalp contract with an icy coldness, every single root of hair pricking into it like a red-hot needle--his hair standing on end!

For a while these two men continued facing each other, terror-struck and unable to speak, till the governor's lady came rushing in to inquire into the reason of this late disturbance. Her coming was opportune, for the governor was obliged to rouse himself to bid her retire; and turning to the clerk, he said, "Tell me."

At which the latter drew himself up straight and saluted his superior. And then followed his tale: "There was much to be done at Jablonow," he said, "and it was eight o'clock before we could set out on the journey back. Both in front and behind us the dragoons were trotting, quite carelessly, and Herr von Hohenau was even merry-hearted, conversing pleasantly to pass the time. And he fell talking about Taras, saying--'Do you know, Dorn, I should rather like to see him; one would like to have a talk with the man--he is quite a colleague of ours, a criminal judge if ever there was one; and I will even maintain he is possessed of all the true instincts of the profession, knowing how to discriminate between a rascal and an honest man--between right and wrong. I am sure of it!' 'Begging your pardon, sir,' I replied, 'but he is just a black-dyed villain, and God Almighty keep us from falling in with him.' 'Well,' owned he, 'I don't say I am anxious to meet him, say, on this journey, although I should not give him credit for any desire of harming us. You misjudge the fellow, Dorn; I have carefully followed his so-called judgments, and I will say this for him, he is a man still and no fiend.' The word was scarcely out of his mouth--we had just arrived by the little bridge leading over the Krasnik--when all of a sudden the reeds on both sides of the brook seemed alive with highwaymen. I am an old soldier, sir, and it is a dead mystery to me how it could happen so quickly, but in less than three minutes all our men were clean overpowered. I should think the bandits were at least five to one of ourselves, but I will say this for them, they did behave decently, and whoever was willing to accept quarter, was merely disarmed and pinioned; they killed only those who stubbornly resisted. Herr von Hohenau remarked it also, and whispered to me: 'Never fear, Dorn, he won't harm us,' And for a while it seemed so. For the bandits who had surrounded the vehicle, levelling their pistols at our faces, now drew off, and one of their number--a Jew, by the face of him--said almost politely: 'Please to get out, sirs, and speak to the avenger.' We stepped to the ground, they closed in a circle, and Taras himself stood before us. Now I had often seen him--why, it is barely two years since--when he used to call here on account of that law-suit of his, a fair-haired, strong-built, ruddy man, with a glow of health about him; but I certainly should not have known him again, hollow-cheeked, worn, and grey as he is now, with deep furrows about his face, and almost trembling as he looked at us. He kept silent rather long, I thought, and there seemed more pity than wrath in his eyes, and he spoke gently when he began, turning to me first. 'It is not you I require, you are but a clerk of theirs, and are bound to write whatever they tell you. You had better go your way at once--that is, if this man here has not some last message he would like to entrust to you.' I shook from head to foot at this announcement, and the gentleman, too, grew white, catching hold of my arm as if to steady himself; yet he was able to say--'I am Carl von Hohenau, a magistrate; every man in this neighbourhood knows me, and can tell you that no crime lies at my door. What is it you accuse me of, Taras?' 'Unheard-of violence and cowardly wrong,' he said. 'My wife and my children are detained in your gaol.' At which Herr von Hohenau drew himself up, saying solemnly: 'Taras, you will believe my word of honour, that they have not been arrested at our instigation, but against our every protest. The governor has been forced to yield to the authorities at Lemberg, our superiors,' At which Taras scanned his face attentively, saying, after a pause: 'I am unwilling to believe you are speaking falsely; but I have had information on solemn oath. Was it not by your orders that Kapronski, on the Wednesday after Easter, threatened my wife with arrest?' 'No--certainly not! Did he? Oh--the rascal! Why, he came back assuring us that only by means of his taking it upon himself thus to threaten you had you been prevailed upon to spare his life,' 'He lied,' said Taras. 'I charged him to tell you that I should consider your lives forfeited if you countenanced such wrong--did he tell you that?' 'No, on the contrary, he advised it as the only expedient; and the Provincial Governor, in issuing his orders to us, has acted on his suggestions without a doubt.' The poor gentleman was not a little excited, but had sufficient power over himself to state plainly that repeated efforts were made by the magistrates of this district to reason with the authorities at Lemberg, and that they obeyed orders in the end under protest only, because there was no help for it. Taras listened quietly, and then, bending his head, he stood motionless, like one lost in thought, a shudder ever and anon quivering through his limbs.... And I believed there was ground for hope; but, alas, I was mistaken. Pulling himself up suddenly, he said: 'I will accept your account, every word as you have told it. But how is it that you yielded in the end, knowing that which was demanded of you was an act of violence?' 'We were driven to it,' 'I do not understand that,' said Taras, slowly; 'a soldier has no will of his own, and must obey his superiors, or he will be shot; but I never heard it is so with the Emperor's magistrates!' 'It is not; and yet we should have been punished--ignominiously dismissed in all probability, which is no light thing for a man to face. Some of us have wives and children,' 'So it is just this: you preferred your position, and perhaps daily bread for yourselves and your families, to the integrity of your conscience! And you are judges, who have sworn an oath before the Almighty, to further the right!' The terrible man said this in the same quiet tone and very slowly, but his passion now broke forth: 'No,' he cried, 'judges who are capable of that, who have yielded to the wrong, have forfeited their lives! Prepare yourself for death.... I cannot spare you!' But I fell on my knees. 'Taras!' I cried, 'for mercy's sake, forbear killing this man!' Herr von Hohenau, however, ordered me to rise, preserving his composure like a hero to the end. 'I have nearly reached my three score and ten,' he said, 'and have striven after righteousness all my days, to the best of my knowledge. I am ready to give up my account to Him who is Judge over all, and my days at best are numbered. And I leave neither wife nor child behind me. It is, therefore, not the fear of death, man, which prompts me to say that you must not kill me, unless you would burden your conscience with a deed of common murder, in the blind fury of revenge. So far as your deeds are known to me, this would be the first act of yours that must be called criminal and nothing else,' The bandits growled, but Taras, beckoning them to be quiet, stood motionless, with bowed head, and lost in thought, as before. Those were terrible moments, I cannot tell how long it lasted, but it seemed an eternity. At last one of Taras's men--that Jew--went up to him, addressing him gently. I could not understand his words, but saw from the expression of his face that he was pleading for mercy. That it was so grew evident from Taras's answer, who, lifting up his hand, said hoarsely, and trembling as though it went hard with him: 'God help me and him, and if I am judging wrongfully I may suffer for it on the gallows, but there is no help for it--he must die! He and his fellow magistrates have set aside their sacred oath for the sake of earthly advantage, and in the fear of man; theirs is the power to protect the holiest of causes, to see the Right carried out, and they have misused the power entrusted to them. That is a fearful evil; and where shall wrong end if it begins with them? Hitherto I have tried to believe that it was their mistake, or at worst their carelessness, at times, which rendered them liable to judge falsely; and though combating the wrong I have so far not declared war against the men of the law themselves. But now I have proof that these judges, these guardians of the Right, have actually been able, against their own better knowledge, to concur in a wrongful deed! I can no longer, then, be satisfied with merely stopping the course of this or that muddy stream, as it were, but am bound to close up the spring-head itself. I grieve, indeed, that I must make the beginning with this old man, who I daresay is one of the best of them, but there is no help for it--may God be merciful to him and to me!' Herr von Hohenau was going to speak yet again, but Taras cut him short, saying: 'It is useless, you must see I cannot help you!' and when I clasped his feet, he freed himself, and fell back behind some of his men. But Herr von Hohenau stood erect, saying with a loud voice, 'Get up, Dorn, it is not meet for honest men to kneel to such a one! Get me a piece of paper and a pencil!' He wrote a few lines, commended himself to the Almighty, and--and----"

The old clerk was shaken with sobs, his eyes were tearless, but the lips quivered, and his breast heaved convulsively.

"They--shot--him?"

The man nodded, and, fumbling in his pocket with trembling hand, produced a scrap of paper. But the governor saw nothing; he, too, was leaning against the wall now, unable to stand. His eyes were closed, but two large drops hung quivering at his lashes, and fell over the furrowed face. "Peace, peace be with thee!" he murmured, "thou best of friends!"

There was a long silence, but the clerk at last ventured to break it: "This bit of writing," he said, falteringly. The governor took it and read:--

"Farewell, my Ferdinand, we have been friends this many a year; do not grieve for me, but have a care for yourself and the others. Let Kapronski meet with his deserts if you can! What money I leave behind me I want your eldest boy to have; just take it, with my love. I do not die willingly, but with an easy mind.--Yours in death,

"Carl von Hohenau."

Herr von Bauer folded the letter, placing it in his note-book. "Where is the body, Dorn?" he inquired, presently.

"Lying by the bridge; and so are the shackled dragoons. The monster himself cried after me, 'You had better send for them,' He had ordered some of his men to take me within sight of the town, where they left me."

Before daybreak even, the brave old governor, together with the general and a sufficient body of men, had started for the scene of death. It was an unspeakably sad journey through the mellow summer night. About half-way they came upon the greater number of the dragoons. None of these had been hurt, they had only been overpowered and bound with ropes. One of them had succeeded in slipping his fetters, and had thus been enabled to set the others free. They confirmed the statement that the band appeared to have no other object than to compass the magistrate's death, vanishing almost directly after he had fallen, pierced by their bullets.

They reached the bridge in the grey of the morning, and found only a few wounded soldiers and the corpse. And the men, bending over it, were filled with a holy awe on beholding the expression of a restful, even proud calm, that had settled on the dead man's face; never had the majesty of death spoken louder than here. And even the old general felt an unwonted pricking about his eyelids when the governor knelt by the dead body of his friend. He insisted on lifting it himself, barely allowing Dorn to lend him a helping hand.

When the mournful procession had returned to the town, the district governor lost no time in calling at the prison, in order to see Anusia. But only a single question he asked of her--"Did Kapronski offer you any threats?"--"Yes," she replied, unhesitatingly, repeating his words.

The governor nodded, as though it were just the information he had expected; and not wasting another word he went his way to the district-board office. As he entered the building the secretary came rushing down to meet him---a messenger had just arrived from Lemberg with a writ from the Provincial Governor, and was to wait for an answer. "Let him wait," said the district governor, bitterly. "I daresay they have come to see the propriety of our remonstrances and rescind their orders."

The contents of the writ, indeed, somewhat verified these surmises, stating that, having referred the matter to Vienna, instructions had been received to take no measures against the family of Taras; to which the Provincial Governor nevertheless added, as his own opinion, that, had the arrest been effected already, he should not deem it advisable to countermand it, lest the dangerous bandit should draw strength from their yielding. But more than this, the Viennese Government requested that every authentic information concerning Taras, beginning with the records of his law-suit in behalf of the community of Zulawce, should be forwarded without delay. And the attention of the Provincial authorities was directed to the advisability of endeavouring to reclaim, the rebel by peaceful means, since both his character and his history, so far as known in Vienna, appeared to warrant this as the best solution of the difficulty. Not that his submission should be bargained for under promise of absolute immunity, or any other inexpedient concession, but rather by rectifying certain unfortunate mistakes, which no doubt might be done without lowering the dignity of the law or that of its guardians. With regard to this, however, the opinion of the local authorities was invited. In the meantime, and until further notice, all action against Taras should be strictly on the defensive, certain contingencies excepted.

This official communication was accompanied by a private note of the Provincial Governor's, which said: "I have certain information that His Imperial Highness, the Archduke Ludwig, is at the bottom of these instructions. Send me your records at once, and it is to be hoped everything is in plain order. For you know that if the Archduke once inquires into a cause, he will have it thoroughly sifted. It is a positive riddle to me how this wretched cut-throat, Taras, should have come to rouse interest in such high quarters. Concerning the 'peaceful means,' however, about which we are to give our opinion, I desire nowise to influence your own ideas, but it seems to me we should be handed down to posterity as fools if we recommended them. The commissioner, Kapronski, whom I have every reason to believe a thoroughly honest and trustworthy man, quite shares my view, deprecating the proposal in the strongest terms, and I should say he is not without experience of his own. He assures me, and I daresay he is right, that any leniency shown to Taras would rouse his insolent opposition to the fullest. I wish to suggest this view to you, but of course you should judge for yourself."

Having read this, the district governor at once issued notices for a meeting of the Board, submitting to the magistrates not only the official document, but the private communication as well. "His excellency, the Provincial Governor, and myself, are not in the habit of having secrets with each other," he said, grimly. The Board, after a short debate, was unanimous in its opinion that peaceful means were not likely to avail in the present extremity, and the following despatch was drawn up: "We fully agree that Taras, terrible as his crimes are, cannot be designated as a bandit and cut-throat in the ordinary sense; it might seem a natural hope, therefore, to lead him back to paths of rectitude by appealing to his sense of honour and justice. Nor do we fear that such an attempt would increase his temerity. But we feel bound to deprecate such a plan, not only because of its utter uselessness as regards the man himself, but even more on account of the hurtful effect it would certainly produce on the people, who would see in it a confession of weakness. As for Taras himself, it is evident that he is acting under the pressure of a belief stronger than his will, imagining that the duty has devolved on him to exterminate every 'wrong' he obtains cognisance of, to punish every deed of injustice, nay, the very omission of doing right. And this idea has so eaten itself into his heart, that no concession to any lawful, or for the matter of that even to unlawful demands, or any other 'peaceful means' will dissuade him from it. He will continue his 'judgments' till they are rendered impossible by force." The Board, however, strongly recommended the setting at liberty of his innocent family; "not for fear of his revenge, but as a matter of conscience, and in the fear of the Judge above." And in conclusion, having reported the murder of their colleague, Hohenau, and Anusia's declaration, they requested that the commissioner Kapronski should be sent back without delay, that he might be brought to the bar of his immediate superiors. With which reply, and a bulky bundle of papers, the messenger returned to Lemberg.

Upon this the Provincial Government wrapped itself in silence save on one point; they had been loth, these authorities stated, to set full value on the commissioner's complaints concerning the ill-will of his colleagues, much as they trusted his veracity on all other heads. But now the Board of Colomea had given tangible proof of its unworthy animosity, actually suggesting proceedings against a respectable servant of the law upon no evidence whatever, save the declaration of a bandit and his imprisoned wife. This appeared unjustifiable spite, and the Provincial Government not only must refuse to give up the innocent commissioner, but felt obliged to censure the magistracy sharply. In answer to which the whole Board of Colomea once more, and in stronger terms, submitted their request for dismissal, but neither on this matter nor concerning Taras did anything farther reach them. There was a dead silence for several weeks.

Thus the district governor's position had come to be no bed of roses, when suddenly it seemed as though having reached the worst, matters would mend. It had been observed that Taras's 'judgments' grew fewer, and during the first fortnight in August not a single act of his was heard of at Colomea. It was as though the 'avenger' and his band had suddenly disappeared from the earth. This silence was as mysterious as his terrible doings had been. It could not be any fear of punishment which bound his hands; for if the General now kept his forces together in stockades between Kossowince and Zulawce, this centre of defence, however formidable, could not prevent the bandits from carrying on their work wherever they pleased, any more than the flying columns had been able to stop it. And since no other explanation offered, the Board lent a willing ear to the report which arose, dimly at first, though it soon gained ground, that by far the larger number of the hajdamaks had fallen out with their leader, and that it was inward dissension which had stopped the activity of the band.