For the Right

by Karl Emil Franzos

"Let us start, then; the people here will see to our dead."

And away they went in a sharp gallop in the direction of Colomea. They followed the high-road at first, but, turning off at right angles, presently plunged into the pathless heath which they traversed at a furious pace, reaching the village Nazurna just as the thin-voiced church bell was tinkling out the hour of noon.

It is but a poor place, amid all the characteristics of heath-country; there are a few farms at great distances one from another, and not greatly thriving, for the soil is unproductive, forming part of the sterile table-land between the valleys of the Pruth and the Czerniawa. A couple of miles beyond the village there is a large moor called the Wallachian Bog, where, according to tradition, in the frontier wars between Poland and Roumania a regiment on the march was sucked down and suffocated in broad daylight. And nothing is more likely, for it is treacherous ground indeed, and even the experienced eye is at a loss to distinguish where the firm land ceases and marshy soil begins, since not only the latter, but the safe earth as well, is covered with sedge grass and willows far and wide. The waters nowhere rise to the surface, and tall trees growing on little islets complete the deception; a larger island covered with beech wood forms the centre of the moor, and is to be reached only by a narrow strip of solid soil which connects it with the firmer land.

Thither Taras led his band; he was acquainted with the bog and the island, with its overgrown and all but secret entrance, from the days when he had been in service at Hankowce, not far distant. It was an admirable place for his purpose, and not the most experienced military engineer could easily have secured a better position for a troop of horsemen in constant danger of being attacked by numerically superior forces, and in need of a safe resting-place to which they might retire after their raids, than this spot formed, not by the art of man, but by a freak of nature. The extreme loneliness of the neighbourhood lessened every chance of discovery; while even a body of men under hot pursuit could vanish thither as though disappearing by magic, and the narrow entrance at the worst could be held against almost any odds. It was natural then that the "avenger" should have taken his men to this place of refuge on many an occasion, so that to this day it goes by the popular name of "Taras's Retreat."

Cautiously, and not without trouble could the men in the first instance take the horses across the shrub-grown neck of land to the island, where they might rest and take food after that grim night and the hard ride since. Yet sleep came to very few of them, an unusual agitation counteracting even the inviting shade of the kindly beeches. A strange humour, something between the madness of utter recklessness and the dejection of inward disapproval, filled the minds of some. For there were those among them that had never shed blood, nor stood in danger of death themselves, and who seemed to understand all at once that the outlaw's business was desperate work; they grew thoughtful and somewhat penitent, endeavouring to conquer these sensations by breaking into noisy song, or by assuring each other that no doubt the coming night would be "jollier" still. But others, whose past experience had fortified them against the proceedings at Kossowince, felt regretful on a different score. It had not surprised them that Taras should have forbidden plunder under pain of death, for that was the way of every new hetman forming a band of hajdamaks; but that he should go to the length of refusing an offering of gratitude for service rendered, and that he should have found it necessary to shoot that poor devil of a Stas for the sake of a handful of florins, was beyond their comprehension. And thus they came to inquire what bound them to this man, who by sheer strength of will had forced them to acknowledge a wretched Jew as one fit to lead them; whose foolish notions had offended the people of Zulawce, and who actually appeared to expect his followers to risk their lives for his ideas, and for no earthly gain beyond the barest daily bread. But the power which Taras exercised even over these low natures was such that they hardly dared breathe these thoughts to themselves, far less to each other. They lay, gloomy and silent, in the tall sedge-grass, till one of them, suddenly jumping up, started a request for Karol Wygoda's bagpipe, at the squeaks and screams of which their darker thoughts receded. One apprehension, however, that might or might not yield to their merriment, was common to all--the near prospect of death. The band which had started so full of spirits from the Crystal Springs had already lost every tenth man of its numbers, and if the attack of a mere ill-defended country place required such sacrifice, what might not be the result of the coming night, when they would enter the well-garrisoned district town? It was for this reason that more than one among them, now joining madly in the dance, would turn aside suddenly with a strange tremor, to conquer which they would halloo the more wildly on resuming the measured pace.

Taras alone appeared unmoved. With the greatest composure he made his arrangements for the night, his bearing and his voice showing as little of emotion as if he had stood in his own farmyard giving orders for the cutting of the wheat. It quite distressed Nashko, for he felt certain that the carnage of the past night had left a fearful burden on the heart of his friend. He was anxious to lessen it, and when Taras beckoned to him to receive his instructions he did his utmost to show that neither the orders given nor their execution could be blamed for the sad results.

"Seventeen lives," he said, regretfully; "it is terrible, indeed! But I think I may say I did my very best to carry out your desire that bloodshed if possible should be avoided. It was the watchfulness of the sentry that frustrated our intention; the man gave the alarm at once, rousing the others, and since I could not leave them time to arm themselves fully, I was obliged to dash into action within the manse itself, in order to overpower them before they had a chance of benefiting by their numbers and superior equipment. It was the close encounter in rooms and passages--in all but darkness, moreover--which resulted in so many slain. There were no wounded, simply because in this desperate fray neither they nor we could have offered or accepted quarter. It was only when the torches were lit--and you may be sure this was done as quickly as possible--only when the soldiers could see that further resistance was madness, the sparing of life became possible; and you may believe me that from that moment not a single life----"

"All right," interrupted Taras, preparing to move away.

The Jew looked at him bewildered. "You are impatient of listening!" he said. "I thought your heart was breaking because of----"

"All right," repeated Taras, quietly. "You have done your duty. And for the rest--what does it matter? Ten lives more or less--what can it matter, since things are what they are?"