Fire in the Steppe (44 page)

That was a difficult road, for it lay through silent wastes and steep ravines. Fortunately abundant but dry snow formed excellent sleighing; the presence of commands in Mohiloff, Yampol, and Rashkoff insured safety. Azba Bey was cut to pieces, the robbers either hanged or dispersed; and the Tartars in winter, through lack of grass, did not go out on the usual roads.

Finally, Pan Adam had promised to meet them with a few tens of horses, if he should receive permission from Pan Rushchyts. They went, therefore, briskly and willingly; Zosia was ready to go to the end of the world for Pan Adam. Pani Boski and the two Armenian women were hoping for the speedy return of their husbands. Rashkoff lay, it is true, in terrible wilds on the border of Christendom; but still they were not going there for a lifetime, nor for a long stay. In spring war would come; war was mentioned on the borders everywhere. When their loved ones were found, they must return with the first warm breeze to save their heads from destruction.

Eva remained at Hreptyoff, detained by Pani Basia. Pan Novoveski did not insist greatly on taking his daughter, especially as he was leaving her in the house of such worthy people.

"I will send her most safely, or I will take her myself," said Basia, "rather I will take her myself, for I should like to see once in my life that whole terrible boundary of which I have heard so much from childhood. In spring, when the roads will be black from chambuls, my husband would not let me go; but now, if Eva stays here, I shall have a fair pretext. In a couple of weeks I shall begin to insist, and in three I shall have permission surely."

"Your husband, I hope, will not let you go in winter unless with a good escort."

"If he can go, he will go with me; if not, Azya will escort us with a couple of hundred or more horses, for I hear that he is to be sent to Rashkoff in every case."

The conversation ended with this, and Eva remained in Hreptyoff. Basia, however, had other calculations besides the reasons given to Pan Novoveski. She wished to lighten for Azya an approach to Eva, for the young Tartar was beginning to disquiet her. As often as he met Basia he answered her queries, it is true, by saying that he loved Eva, that his former feeling had not died; but when he was with Eva he was silent. Meanwhile the girl had fallen in love with him to desperation in that Hreptyoff desert. His wild but splendid beauty, his childhood passed under the strong hand of Novoveski, his princely descent, and that prolonged mystery which had weighed upon him, finally his military fame, had enchanted her thoroughly. She was waiting merely for the moment to open to him her heart, burning as a flame, and to say to him, "Azya, I have loved thee from childhood," to fall into his arms and vow love to him till death. Meanwhile he closed his teeth and was silent.

Eva herself thought at first that the presence of her father and brother restrained Azya from a confession. Later, disquiet seized her too, for if obstacles arose unavoidably on the part of her father and brother, especially before Azya had received naturalization, still he might open his heart to her, and he was bound to do so the more speedily and sincerely the more obstacles were rising on their road.

But he was silent.

Doubt crept at last into the maiden's heart, and she began to complain of her misfortune to Basia, who pacified her, saying:—

"I do not deny that he is a strange man, and wonderfully secretive; but I am certain that he loves you, for he has told me so frequently, and besides he looks on you not as on others."

To this Eva, shaking her head, answered gloomily: "Differently, that is certain; but I know not whether there is love or hatred in that gaze."

"Dear Eva, do not talk folly; why should he hate you?"

"But why should he love me?"

Here Basia began to pass her small hands over the maiden's face. "But why does Michael love me? And why did your brother, when he had barely seen Zosia, fall in love with her?"

"Adam has always been hasty."

"Azya is haughty, and dreads refusal, especially from your father; your brother, having been in love himself, would understand more quickly the torture of that feeling. This is how it is. Be not foolish, Eva; have no fear. I will stir up Azya well, and you'll see how courageous he'll be."

In fact, Basia had an interview with Azya that very day, after which she rushed in great haste to Eva.

"It is all over!" cried she on the threshold.

"What?" asked Eva, flushing.

"Said I to him, 'What are you thinking of, to feed me with ingratitude? I have detained Eva purposely that you might take advantage of the occasion; but if you do not, know that in two, or at furthest three weeks, I will send her to Rashkoff. I may go myself with her, and you'll be left in the lurch.' His face changed when he heard of the journey to Rashkoff, and he began to beat with his forehead to my feet. I asked him then what he had on his mind, and he answered: 'On the road I will confess what I have in my breast. On the road,' said he, 'will be the best occasion; on the road will happen what is to happen, what is predestined. I will confess all, I will disclose all, for I cannot live longer in this torment.' His lips began to quiver, so anxious was he before, for he has received some unfavorable letters from Kamenyets. He told me that he must go to Rashkoff in every event, that there is an old command of the hetman to my husband touching that matter; but the period is not mentioned in the command, for it depends on negotiations which he is carrying on there with the captains. 'But now,' said he, 'the time is approaching, and I must go to them beyond Rashkoff, so that at the same time I can conduct your grace and Panna Eva.' I told him in answer that it was unknown whether I should go or not, for it would depend on Michael's permission. When he heard this he was frightened greatly. Ai, you are a fool, Eva! You say that he doesn't love you, but he fell at my feet; and when he implored me to go, I tell you he just whined, so that I had a mind to shed tears over him. Do you know why he did that? He told me at once. 'I,' said he, 'will confess what I have in my heart; but without the prayers of your grace I shall do nothing with the Novoveskis, I shall only rouse anger and hatred in them against myself. My fate is in the hands of your grace, my suffering, my salvation; for if your grace will not go, then better that the earth swallowed me, or that living fire burned me.' That is how he loves you. Simply terrible to think of! And if you had seen how he looked at that moment you would have been frightened."

"No, I am not afraid of him," answered Eva, and she began to kiss Basia's hands. "Go with us; go with us!" repeated she, with emotion; "go with us! You alone can save us; you alone will not fear to tell my father; you alone can effect something. Go with us! I will fall at the feet of Pan Volodyovski to get leave for you. Without you, father and Azya will spring at each other with knives. Go with us; go with us!" And saying this, she dropped to Basia's knees and began to embrace them with tears.

"God grant that I go!" said Basia. "I will lay all before Michael, and will not cease to torment him. It is safe now to go even alone, and what will it be with such a numerous retinue! Maybe Michael himself will go; if not, he has a heart, and will give me permission. At first he will cry out against it; but just let me grow gloomy, he will begin to walk around me at once, look into my eyes, and give way. I should prefer to have him go too, for I shall be terribly lonely without him; but what is to be done? I will go anyhow to give you some solace. In this case it is not a question of my wishes, but of the fate of you and Azya. Michael loves you both,—he will consent."

After that interview with Basia, Azya flew to his own room, as full of delight and consolation as if he had gained health after a sore illness. A while before wild despair had been tearing his soul; that very morning he had received a dry and brief letter from Pan Bogush of the following contents:—

When the young Tartar received this letter, he fell into a terrible fury. First he crushed the letter in his hand into bits; then he stabbed the table time after time with his dagger; next he threatened his own life and that of the faithful Halim, who on his knees begged him to undertake nothing till he had recovered from rage and despair. That letter was a cruel blow to him. The edifices which his pride and ambition had reared, were as if blown up with powder; his plans were destroyed. He might have become the third hetman in the Commonwealth, and held its fate in his hand; and now he sees that he must remain an obscure officer, for whom the summit of ambition would be naturalization. In his fiery imagination he had seen crowds bowing down daily before him; and now it will come to him to bow down before others. It is no good for him either that he is the son of Tugai Bey, that the blood of reigning warriors flows in his veins, that great thoughts are born in his soul—nothing—all nothing! He will live unrecognized and die in some distant little fortalice forgotten. One word broke his wing; one "no" brought it about, that, henceforward, he will not be free to soar like an eagle to the firmament, but must crawl like a worm on the ground.

But all this is nothing yet, in comparison with the happiness which he has lost. She for the possession of whom he would have given blood and eternity; she for whom he was flaming like fire; she whom he loved with eyes, hearty soul, blood,—would never be his. That letter took from him her, as well as the baton of a hetman. Hmelnitski might carry off Chaplinski's wife; Azya, a hetman, might carry off another man's wife, and defend himself even against the whole Commonwealth, but how could that Azya take her,—Azya, a lieutenant of Lithuanian Tartars, serving under command of her husband?

When he thought of this, the world grew black before his eyes,—empty, gloomy; and the son of Tugai Bey was not sure but he would better die, than live without a reason to live, without happiness, without hope, without the woman he loved. This pressed him down the more terribly since he had not looked for such a blow; nay, considering the condition of the Commonwealth, he had become more convinced every day that the hetman would confirm those plans. Now his hopes were blown apart like mist before a whirlwind. What remained to him? To renounce glory, greatness, happiness; but he was not the man to do that. At the first moment the madness of anger and despair carried him away. Fire was passing through his bones and burning him fiercely; hence he howled and gnashed his teeth, and thoughts equally fiery and vengeful were flying through his head. He wanted revenge on the Commonwealth, on the hetman, on Pan Michael, even on Basia. He wanted to rouse his Tartars, cut down the garrison, all the officers, all Hreptyoff, kill Pan Michael, carry off Basia, go with her beyond the Moldavian boundary, and then down to the Dobrudja, and farther on, even to Tsargrad itself, even to the deserts of Asia.

But the faithful Halim watched over him, and he himself, when he had recovered from his first fury and despair, recognized all the impossibility of those plans. Azya in this too resembled Hmelnitski; as in Hmelnitski, so in him, a lion and a serpent dwelt in company. Should he attack Hreptyoff with his faithful Tartars, what would come of that? Would Pan Michael, who is as watchful as a stork, let himself be surprised; and even if he should, would that famous partisan let himself be slaughtered, especially as he had at hand more and better soldiers? Finally, suppose that Azya should finish Volodyovski, what would he do then? If he moves along the river toward Yagorlik, he must rub out the commands at Mohiloff, Yampol, and Rashkoff; if he crosses to the Moldavian bank, the perkulabs are there, friends of Volodyovski, and Habareskul of Hotin himself, his sworn friend. If he goes to Doroshenko, there are Polish commands at Bratslav; and the steppe, even in winter, is full of scouts. In view of all this, Tugai Bey's son felt his helplessness, and his malign soul belched forth flames first, and then buried itself in deep despair, as a wounded wild beast buries itself in a dark den of a cliff, and remained quiet. And as uncommon pain kills itself and ends in torpidity, so he became torpid at last.

Just then it was announced to him that the wife of the commandant wished to speak to him.

Halim did not recognize Azya when he returned from that conversation. Torpor had vanished from the Tartar's face, his eyes danced like those of a wild-cat, his face was gleaming, and his white teeth glittered from under his mustaches; in his wild beauty he was like the terrible Tugai Bey.

"My lord," inquired Halim, "in what way has God comforted thy soul?"

"Halim," said Azya, "God forms bright day after dark night, and commands the sun to rise out of the sea." Here he seized the old Tartar by the shoulders. "In a month she will be mine for the ages!"