“To thee, O Country!” said Pan Michael, in his soul, wondering at the same time that the hetman could penetrate his secret thoughts so quickly.
Pan Sobieski sat down in front of him and continued: “I do not wish to speak with you as with a subordinate, but as with a friend,—nay! as a father with a son. When we were in the fire at Podhaytse, and before that in the Ukraine; when we were barely able to prevent the preponderance of the enemy,—here, in the heart of the country, evil men in security, behind our shoulders, were attaining in turbulence their own selfish ends. Even in those days it came more than once to my head that this Commonwealth must perish. License lords it too much over order; the public good yields too often to private ends. This has never happened elsewhere in such a degree. These thoughts were gnawing me in the day in the field, and in the night in the tent, for I thought to myself: ‘Well, we soldiers are in a woful condition; but this is our duty and our portion. If we could only know that with this blood which is flowing from our wounds, salvation was issuing also.’ No! even that consolation there was not. Oh, I passed heavy days in Podhaytse, though I showed a glad face to you officers, lest you might think that I had lost hope of victory in the field. ‘There are no men,’ thought I,—‘there are no men who love this country really.’ And it was to me as if some one had planted a knife in my breast, till a certain time—the last day at Podhaytse, when I sent you with two thousand to the attack against twenty-six thousand of the horde, and you all flew to apparent death, to certain slaughter, with such a shouting, with such willingness, as if you were going to a wedding—suddenly the thought came to me: ‘Ah, these are my soldiers.’ And God in one moment took the stone from my heart, and in my eyes it grew clear. ‘These,’ said I, ‘are perishing from pure love of the mother; they will not go to confederacies, nor to traitors. Of these I will form a sacred brotherhood; of these I will form a school, in which the young generation will learn. Their example will have influence; through them this ill-fated people will be reborn, will become free of selfishness, forget license, and be as a lion feeling wonderful strength in his limbs, and will astonish the world. Such a brotherhood will I form of my soldiers!’”
Here Sobieski flushed up, reared his head, which was like the head of a Roman Cæsar, and stretching forth his hands, exclaimed, “O Lord! inscribe not on our walls ‘Mene, Tekel, Peres!’ and permit me to regenerate my country!”
A moment of silence followed. Pan Michael sat with drooping head and felt that trembling had seized his whole body.
The hetman walked some time with quick steps through the room and then stopped before the little knight. “Examples are needed,” said he,—“examples every day to strike the eye. Volodyovski, I have reckoned you in the first rank of the brotherhood. Do you wish to belong to it?”
The little knight rose and embraced the hetman’s knees. “See,” said he, with a voice of emotion, “when I heard that I had to march again, I thought that a wrong had been done, and that leisure for my suffering belonged to me; but now I see that I sinned, and I repent of my thought and am unable to speak, for I am ashamed.”
The hetman pressed Pan Michael to his heart in silence. “There is a handful of us,” said he; “but others will follow the example.”
“When am I to go?” asked the little knight. “I could go even to the Crimea, for I have been there.”
“No,” answered the hetman; “to the Crimea I will send Pan Rushchyts. He has relations there, and even namesakes, likely cousins, who, seized in childhood by the horde, have become Mussulmans and obtained office among the Pagans. They will help him in everything. Besides, I need you in the field; there is no man your equal in dealing with Tartars.”
“When have I to go?” repeated the little knight.