At first she remained stupified and motionless, and, like a fine statue, gazed into his eyes; then, on a sudden, bursting into tears, she flung herself on his neck, caught him in her snow-white delicate arms, and sobbed aloud; all this she did with that marvellous womanly impetuosity, of which none is capable but inconsiderate generous woman, created for magnanimous impulses of the heart. At this moment, confused shouts, together with the sound of trumpets and kettle-drums were heard in the street. But Andrew heard them not, he only felt how her pretty lips diffused over his face the aromatic warmth of their breath, how her tears flowed in streams over his cheeks, and how, falling down from her head, her fragrant hair wrapped him in its dark and glossy silk.
At the same moment the Tartar ran into the room with the joyful exclamation, "Rescued! rescued!" cried she, beside herself with joy: "our own have come into the town; they have brought with them, bread, millet, flour, and Zaporoghian prisoners!" But neither of the two understood who "our own" were who had come into the town, what they had brought, or what they had to do with the Zaporoghians. Full of feelings not to be enjoyed on earth, Andrew impressed a kiss on her fragrant lips; they returned the kiss, and in that mutual, melting embrace each of them felt all that man can feel but once in his lifetime.
Then lost was the Cossack for ever! lost to all Cossack knighthood! Never again will he see the Ssiecha: the farms of his father: the church of God. Ukraine will never again see the bravest of her children who went forth for its defence. Old Tarass will tear from his head a lock of his grey hair, and curse the day and the hour when such a son was born to bring shame upon him!
VII.
The whole of the Zaporoghian camp was in an uproar. At first nobody could ascertain how it had come to pass that the Polish reinforcement had entered the city. It was afterwards found out that all the Cossacks of the kooren of Percaslavl, encamped before one of the side gates of the city, were dead drunk; so no wonder if half of them were killed, and the remainder bound and made prisoners, before any one could discover what was the matter. While the other koorens, awakened by the noise, had but time to snatch up their arms, the Poles had already made their way through the gate, and their rear-ranks alone fired on the Zaporoghians who, not yet wholly recovered from their slumbers and their tipsiness, had in disorder rushed upon them. The Koschevoï gave the order for all to assemble, and when all stood in a circle and kept silence, their caps off, he spoke thus:—
"Do you see, gentlemen brothers, what has happened this night? You see now the result of drunkenness? You see the shame that the foe has brought upon us? It seems to be part of your habits, that, if your allowance is doubled, you think yourselves entitled to go on drinking till you bring yourselves into such a state that the foe of Christian soldiers may not only pull off your trowsers, but even spit in your face before you are aware of it!"
The Cossacks stood with their heads bent down, as if to acknowledge their fault. The ataman of the kooreen of Neezamaitzy, Kookoobenko, alone retorted. "Stop, father," said he, "although it is not according to the rules that one should reply when the Koschevoï is speaking before the army, yet as the matter was not thus, I must say so. Thou art not quite right in thy reproach. The Cossacks would have been in fault, and would have deserved death if they had got drunk on march, on the field of battle, or during some hard or difficult labour; but we remained without any business at all, sauntering round the city. No fast, nor any other Christian penance was at hand; how, then, could it be expected that a man should not get drunk when he had nothing to do? There is no sin in that. Let us rather show now what it is to fall upon innocent men. We have till now struck hard—let us now strike so that they may not even be able to take to their heels to fly back to their homes!"
The speech of the koorennoï ataman greatly pleased the Cossacks. They raised their eyes which had, till then, remained bent down, and many of them approvingly tossed their heads, saying, "Well said, Kookoobenko!" Tarass Boolba, who was standing not far from the Koschevo, said, "How now, Koschevoï? Kookoobenko seems to be right; what wilt thou say-now?"
"What will I say? I will say that happy is the father that has brought such a son. It is no difficult matter to find upbraiding words, but it is a difficult matter to speak such words as, aggravating a man's misfortunes by reproach, may coax him and stir up his fallen spirit as spurs incite the spirit of a steed refreshed by drink. I had, myself, the intention of adding some encouraging words; but Kookoobenko has outstripped me."