Fire in the Steppe (42 page)

"Why?" asked old Pan Novoveski.

"Why? This is why: because I, without boasting, could meet every one else with the sabre; but he would not amuse himself with me while you could say 'Our Father' twice. And besides he is a partisan beyond compare, before whom Rushchyts himself would take off his cap. What, Pan Rushchyts? Even the Tartars love him. He is the greatest soldier in the Commonwealth."

"And how he and his wife love each other! Ai, ai! enough to make your eyes ache to look at them," put in Eva.

"Ai, your mouth waters! Your mouth waters, for your time has come too," exclaimed Pan Adam. And putting his hands on his hips he began to nod his head, as a horse does; but she answered modestly,—

"I have no thought of it."

"Well, there is no lack of officers and pleasant company here."

"But," said Eva, "I do not know whether father has told you that Azya is here."

"Azya Mellehovich, the Lithuanian Tartar? I know him; he is a good soldier."

"But you do not know," said old Pan Novoveski, "that he is not Mellehovich, but that Azya who grew up with you."

"In God's name, what do I hear? Just think! Sometimes that came to my head too; but they told me that his name was Mellehovich, therefore I thought, 'Well, he is not the man,' Azya with the Tartars is a universal name. I had not seen him for so many years that I was not certain. Our Azya was rather ugly and short, and this one is a beauty."

"He is ours, ours!" said old Novoveski, "or rather not ours, for do you know what has come out, whose son he is?"

"How should I know?"

"He is the son of the great Tugai Bey."

The young man struck his powerful palms on his knees till the sound was heard through the house.

"I cannot believe my ears! Of the great Tugai Bey? If that is true, he is a prince and a relative of the Khan. There is no higher blood in the Crimea than Tugai Bey's."

"It is the blood of an enemy!"

"It was that in the father, but the son serves us; I have seen him myself twenty times in action. Ha! I understand now whence comes that devilish daring in him. Pan Sobieski distinguished him before the whole army, and made him a captain. I am glad from my soul to greet him,—a strong soldier; from my whole heart I will greet him."

"But be not too familiar with him."

"Why? Is he my servant, or ours? I am a soldier, he is a soldier; I am an officer, he is an officer. If he were some fellow of the infantry who commands his regiment with a reed, I shouldn't have a word to say; but if he is the son of Tugai Bey, then no common blood flows in him. He is a prince, and that is the end of it; the hetman himself will provide naturalization for him. How should I thrust my nose above him, when I am in brotherhood with Kulak Murza, with Bakchy Aga and Sukyman? None of these would be ashamed to herd sheep for Tugai Bey."

Eva felt a sudden wish to kiss her brother again; then she sat so near him that she began to stroke his bushy forelock with her shapely hand.

The entrance of Pan Michael interrupted this tenderness.

Pan Adam sprang up to greet the commanding officer, and began at once to explain that he had not paid his respects first of all to the commandant, because he had not come on service, but as a private person. Pan Michael embraced him cordially and said,—

"And who would blame you, dear comrade, if after so many years of absence you fell at your father's knees first of all? It would be something different were it a question of service; but have you no commission from Pan Rushchyts?"

"Only obeisances. Pan Rushchyts went down to Yagorlik, for they informed him that there were multitudes of horse-tracks on the snow. My commandant received your letter and sent it to the horde to his relatives and brothers, instructing them to search and make inquiries there; but he will not write himself. 'My hand is too heavy,' he says, 'and I have no experience in that art.'"

"He does not like writing, I know," said Pan Michael. "The sabre with him is always the basis." Here the mustaches of the little knight quivered, and he added, not without a certain boastfulness, "And still you were chasing Azba Bey two months for nothing."

"But your grace gulped him as a pike does a whiting," cried Pan Adam, with enthusiasm. "Well, God must have disturbed his mind, that when he had escaped from Pan Rushchyts, he came under your hand. He caught it!"

These words tickled the little knight agreeably, and wishing to return politeness for politeness, he turned to Pan Novoveski and said,—

"The Lord Jesus has not given me a son so far; but if ever He does, I should wish him to be like this cavalier."

"There is nothing in him!" answered the old noble,—"nothing, and that is the end of it."

But in spite of these words he began to puff from delight.

"Here is another great treat for me!"

Meanwhile the little knight stroked Eva's face, and said to her: "You see that I am no stripling; but my Basia is almost of your age; therefore I am thinking that at times she should have some pleasant amusement, proper for youthful years. It is true that all here love her beyond description, and you, I trust, see some reason for it."

"Beloved God!" said Eva, "there is not in the world another such woman! I have said that just now."

The little knight was rejoiced beyond measure, so that his face shone, and he asked, "Did you say that really?"

"As I live she did!" cried father and son together.

"Well, then, array yourself in the best, for, without Basia's knowledge, I have brought an orchestra from Kamenyets. I ordered the men to hide the instruments in straw, and I told her that they were Gypsies who had come to shoe horses. This evening I'll have tremendous dancing. She loves it, she loves it, though she likes to play the dignified matron."

When he had said this. Pan Michael began to rub his hands, and was greatly pleased with himself.

The snow fell so thickly that it filled the stanitsa trench altogether, and settled on the stockade wall like a mound. Outside were night and a storm; but the chief room in Hreptyoff was blazing with light. There were two violins, a bass-viol, a flageolet, a French horn, and two bugles. The fiddlers worked away till they were turning in their seats. The cheeks of the flageolet player and the buglers were puffed out, and their eyes were bloodshot. The oldest officers sat on benches at the wall, one near another,—as gray doves sit before their cotes in a roof,—and while drinking mead and wine looked at the dancers.

Basia opened the ball with Pan Mushalski, who, despite advanced years, was as great a dancer as a bowman. Basia wore a robe of silver brocade edged with ermine, and resembled a newly blown rose in fresh snow. Young and old marvelled at her beauty, and the cry "Save us!" came involuntarily from the breasts of many; for though Panna Eva and Panna Zosia were somewhat younger, and beautiful beyond common measure, still Basia surpassed all. In her eyes delight and pleasure were flashing. As she swept past the little knight she thanked him for the entertainment with a smile; through her open rosy mouth gleamed white teeth, and she shone in her silver robe, glittering like a sun-ray or a star, and enchanted the eye and the heart with the beauty of a child, a woman, and a flower. The split sleeves of her robe fluttered after her like the wings of a great butterfly; and when, raising her skirt, she made an obeisance before her partner, you would think that she was floating on the earth like a vision, or one of those sprites which on bright nights in summer skip along the edges of ravines.

Outside, the soldiers pressed their stern mustached-faces against the lighted window-panes, and flattening their noses against the glass peered into the room. It pleased them greatly that their adored lady surpassed all others in beauty, for they held furiously to her side; they did not spare jests, therefore, and allusions to Panna Eva, or Panna Zosia, and greeted with loud hurrahs every approach that Basia made to the window.

Pan Michael increased like bread-rising, and nodded his head, keeping time with Basia's movements; Pan Zagloba, standing near, held a tankard in his hand, tapped with his foot and dropped liquor on the floor; but at times he and the little knight turned and looked at each other with uncommon rapture and puffing.

But Basia glittered and glittered through the whole room, ever more joyous, ever more charming. Such for her was the Wilderness. Now a battle, now a hunt, now amusements, dancing and music, and a crowd of soldiers,—her husband the greatest among them, and he loving and beloved; Basia felt that all liked and admired her, gave her homage,—that the little knight was happy through that; and she herself felt as happy as birds feel when spring has come, and they rejoice and sing lustily and joyously in the air of May. The second couple were Azya and Eva Novoveski, who wore a crimson jacket. The young Tartar, completely intoxicated with the white vision glittering before him, spoke not one word to Eva; but she, thinking that emotion had stopped the voice in his breast, tried to give him courage by pressure of her hand, light at the beginning, and afterward stronger. Azya, on his part, pressed her hand so powerfully that hardly could she repress a cry of pain; but he did this involuntarily, for he thought only of Basia, he saw only Basia, and in his soul he repeated a terrible vow, that if he had to burn half Russia she should be his.

At times, when consciousness came to him somewhat, he felt a desire to seize Eva by the throat, stifle her, and gloat over her, because she pressed his hand, and because she stood between him and Basia. At times he pierced the poor girl with his cruel, falcon glance, and her heart began to beat with more power; she thought that it was through love that he looked at her so rapaciously.

Pan Adam and Zosia formed the third couple. She looked like a forget-me-not, and tripped along at his side with downcast eyes; he looked like a wild horse, and jumped like one. From under his shod heels splinters were flying; his forelock was soaring upward; his face was covered with ruddiness; he opened his nostrils wide like a Turkish charger, and sweeping Zosia around, as a whirlwind does a leaf, carried her through the air. The soul grew glad in him beyond measure, since he lived on the edge of the Wilderness whole months without seeing a woman. Zosia pleased him so much at first glance, that in a moment he was in love with her to kill. From time to time he looked at her downcast eyes, at her blooming cheeks, and just snorted at the pleasant sight; then all the more mightily did he strike fire with his heels; with greater strength did he hold her, at the turn of the dance, to his broad breast, and burst into a mighty laugh from excess of delight, and boiled and loved with more power every moment.

But Zosia had fear in her dear little heart; still, that fear was not disagreeable, for she was pleased with that whirlwind of a man who bore her along and carried her with him,—a real dragon! She had seen various cavaliers in Yavorov, but such a fiery one she had not met till that hour; and none danced like him, none swept her on so. In truth, a real dragon! What was to be done with him, since it was impossible to resist?

In the next couple, Panna Kaminski danced with a polite cavalier, and after her came the Armenians,—Pani Kyeremovich and Pani Neresevich, who, though wives of merchants, were still invited to the company, for both were persons of courtly manners, and very wealthy. The dignified Naviragh and the two Anardrats looked with growing wonder at the Polish dances; the old men at their mead cups made an increasing noise, like grasshoppers on stubble land. But the music drowned every voice, and in the middle of the room delight grew in all hearts.

Meanwhile Basia left her partner, ran panting to her husband, and clasped her hands before him.

"Michael," said she, "it is so cold outside the windows for the soldiers, give command to let them have a keg of gorailka."

He, being unusually jovial, fell to kissing her hands, and cried,—

"I would not spare blood to please you!"

Then he hurried out himself to tell the soldiers at whose instance they were to have the keg; for he wished them to thank Basia, and love her the more.

In answer, they raised such a shout that the snow began to fall from the roof; the little knight cried in addition, "Let the muskets roar there as a vivat to the Pani!" Upon his return to the room he found Basia dancing with Azya. When the Tartar embraced, that sweet figure with his arm, when he felt the warmth coming from her and her breath on his face, his pupils went up almost into his skull, and the whole world turned before his eyes; in his soul he gave up paradise, eternity, and for all the houris he wanted only this one.

Then Basia, when she noticed in passing the crimson jacket of Eva, curious to know if Azya had proposed yet, inquired,—

"Have you told her?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It is not time yet," said he, with a strange expression.

"But are you greatly in love?"

"To the death, to the death!" answered the Tartar, with a low but hoarse voice, like the croaking of a raven.

And they danced on, immediately after Pan Adam, who had pushed to the front. Others had changed partners, but Pan Adam did not let Zosia go; only at times he seated her on a bench to rest and recover breath, then he revelled again. At last he stopped before the orchestra, and holding Zosia with one arm, cried to the musicians,—

"Play the krakoviak! on with it!"

Obedient to command, they played at once. Pan Adam kept time with his foot, and sang with an immense voice,—

And that "U-há" he roared out in such Cossack fashion that Zosia was drooping from fear. The dignified Naviragh, standing near, was frightened, the two learned Anardrats were frightened; but Pan Adam led the dance farther. Twice he made the circle of the room, and stopping before the musicians, sang of his heart again,—