“I have three powerful murzas,” answered Volodyovski; “and one of them is from Lubni times. Once I begged him of Prince Yeremi. Aga Bey is his name; and even now, if he had to lay his head down for me, he would lay it down. The other two are equally reliable.”
“Ah,” said Basia, “I should like to conclude brotherhood with the Khan himself, and free all the prisoners.”
“He would not be averse to that,” said Zagloba; “but it is not known what reward he would ask of you.”
“Permit me, gentlemen,” said Pan Michael; “let us consider what we ought to do. Now listen; we have news from Kamenyets that in two weeks at the furthest Pyotrovich will be here with a numerous escort. He will go to the Crimea with ransom for a number of Armenian merchants from Kamenyets, who at the change of the Khan were plundered and taken captive. That happened to Seferovich, the brother of Pretor. All those people are very wealthy; they will not spare money, and Pyotrovich will go well provided. No danger threatens him; for, first, winter is near, and it is not the time for chambuls, and, secondly, with him are going Naviragh, the delegate of the Patriarch of Echmiadzin, and the two Anardrats from Kaffa, who have a safe-conduct from the young Khan. I will give letters to Pyotrovich to the residents of the Commonwealth and to my brothers. Besides, it is known to you, gentlemen, that Pan Rushchyts, the commandant at Rashkoff, has relatives in the horde, who, taken captive in childhood, have become thoroughly Tartar, and have risen to dignities. All these will move earth and heaven, will try negotiations; in case of stubbornness on the part of the murza, they will rouse the Khan himself against him, or perhaps they will twist the murza’s head somewhere in secret. I hope, therefore, that if, which God grant, Pan Boski is alive, I shall get him in a couple of months without fail, as the hetman commands, and my immediate superior here present” (at this Pan Michael bowed to his wife).
His immediate superior sprang to embrace the little knight the second time. Pani and Panna Boski clasped their hands, thanking God, who had permitted them to meet such kindly people. Both became notably cheerful, therefore.
“If the old Khan were alive,” said Pan Nyenashinyets, “all would go more smoothly; for he was greatly devoted to us, and of the young one they say the opposite. In fact, those Armenian merchants for whom Pan Pyotrovich is to go, were imprisoned in Bagchesarai itself during the time of the young Khan, and probably at his command.”
“There will be a change in the young, as there was in the old Khan, who, before he convinced himself of our honesty, was the most inveterate enemy of the Polish name,” said Zagloba. “I know this best, for I was seven years under him in captivity. Let the sight of me give comfort to your ladyship,” continued he, taking a seat near Pani Boski. “Seven years is no joke; and still I returned and crushed so many of those dog brothers that for each day of my captivity I sent at least two of them to hell; and for Sundays and holidays who knows if there will not be three or four? Ha!”
“Seven years!” repeated Pani Boski, with a sigh.
“May I die if I add a day! Seven years in the very palace of the Khan,” confirmed Zagloba, blinking mysteriously. “And you must know that that young Khan is my—” Here he whispered something in the ear of Pani Boski, burst into a loud “Ha, ha, ha!” and began to stroke his knees with his palms; finally he slapped Pani Boski’s knees, and said, “They were good times, were they not? In youth every man you met was an enemy, and every day a new prank, ha!”
The sedate matron became greatly confused, and pushed back somewhat from the jovial knight; the younger women dropped their eyes, divining easily that the pranks of which Pan Zagloba was talking must be something opposed to their native modesty, especially since the soldiers burst into loud laughter.