"They have gone different ways; but I have not come to betray them, and shall not do so. Concerning myself I will answer any question, and that must suffice. But before interrogating me, please have a clerk here to write it all down, for I should like those at Vienna to have the truth in my own words. I would especially wish the Emperor to know it, and his kind uncle, Ludwig."
The governor was going to retort sharply, but he restrained himself; the man after all had not desired anything improper. But the shock had been too great to enable him to open proceedings on the spot. "You will be interrogated to-morrow morning," he said, "and, whatever your misdeeds, it shall be set over against them that you have given yourself up of your own free will. I will not have you put in irons, and no one shall dare to insult you; but I shall have you well guarded."
"Do whatever the law requires," replied Taras. "But there is no fear of my escaping again, even if never a door were locked upon me. It is my conscience which brought me hither, and it will keep me here. Indeed, if any one attempted to set me free against my will, I should oppose him as an enemy."
The governor had nothing more to say, beyond ordering the prisoner's removal to the city gaol. But Taras looked at him. "There is yet one thing," and his voice quivered; "may I speak to this gentleman--it is something I have deeply at heart."
The governor nodded assent, and Starkowski went up to the prisoner. "Ah, sir," said Taras, "I pray you not to believe that after all I turned a robber and murderer! I daresay you heard that I have had Zukowski killed, the poor old baron at Borsowka. I have; but I have been grievously deceived by evil men, on whose honesty I relied. I was fully persuaded I had judged righteously in this case also. I appeal to you--you know that I never yet told a lie--will you believe me?"
"I will--I do," said the lawyer, holding out his hand.
But Taras did not take it, there was a strange agitation in his face, he shook, and before the lawyer could prevent it, he had fallen on his knees, covering Starkowski's hand with kisses and tears. "Ah, sir," he sobbed, "this is the most merciful word you have spoken in your life!"
He rose and followed his keepers.
An hour later special messengers were speeding in all directions to announce to the magistrates and military authorities that the great trouble was at an end, that the avenger was in safe keeping of his own free will. At Colomea itself the news was flying from house to house, being received everywhere with exultant satisfaction. Two men only, whose interest in Taras's fate, because a personal one, was of the liveliest, were rather aghast at the news, calling their mortal enemy a fool for his pains, because he had put his head into the noose.
One of these worthies was Mr. Ladislas Kapronski, who had been obliged after all to return from Lemberg, not of his own choice, but because of the importunity of his immediate superiors, which left but two ways open to him, either to accept their pressing invitation or to quit the service. So he had arrived, hoping to escape with a sharp reproof; but the very first meeting of the Board showed he was not likely to be dealt with in a spirit of leniency, the district governor being especially vicious in the virtuous Kapronski's opinion. Nevertheless, he clang to his hope, giving the lie unblushingly to all accusations, since the one witness to be dreaded, even Taras, could not so easily be confronted with him; and who else should know whether he had perverted his message or not? So he carried his head high, and his collapse was sad to behold when, at a late hour that evening, the news reached him, "Taras is in safe keeping!" He jumped from his seat as though an adder had stung him; but, alas! there was no use in his rushing abroad to inquire whether it could really be true, since the strange rudeness--or, perhaps, deafness only--of his closer acquaintances had appeared of late to affect most people at Colomea, and now Kapronski in addressing any honest citizen could never be sure of a hearing! So he did not go forth from his chamber, but fell to chewing the bitter cud of retribution, listening intently for what terrible affirmation might come flying in to him through his open windows from the excited streets. The news plainly was a fact!