Here the prince grew vivacious, rose from the chair, and began to walk through the room.
"This will not take place without difficulty and obstacles," continued he, "for the Radzivills of Olyta and Nyesvyej are not willing to aid us. I know that Prince Michael wrote to my cousin that he would better think of a hair-shirt than of a royal mantle. Let him think of a hair-shirt himself, let him do penance, let him sit on ashes, let the Jesuits lash his skin with disciplines; if he is content with being a royal carver, let him carve capons virtuously all his virtuous life, till his virtuous death! We shall get on without him and not drop our hands, for just now is the time. The devils are taking the Commonwealth; for now it is so weak, has gone to such dogs, that it cannot drive them away. Every one is crawling in over its boundaries, as into an unfenced garden. What has happened here with the Swedes has happened nowhere on earth to this day. We, Sir Cavalier, may sing in truth 'Te Deum laudamus.' In its way the event is unheard of, unparalleled. Just think: an invader attacks a country, an invader famous for rapacity; and not only does he not find resistance, but every living man deserts his old king and hurries to a new one, – magnates, nobles, the army, castles, towns, all, – without honor, without fame, without feeling, without shame! History gives not another such example. Tfu! tfu! trash inhabit this country, – men without conscience or ambition. And is such a country not to perish? They are looking for our favor! Ye will have favor! In Great Poland already the Swedes are thumb-screwing nobles; and so will it be everywhere, – it cannot be otherwise."
Kmita grew paler and paler, but with the remnant of his strength he held in curb an outburst of fury; the prince, absorbed in his own speech, delighted with his own words, with his own wisdom, paid no attention to his listener, and continued, -
"There is a custom in this land that when a man is dying his relatives at the last moment pull the pillow from under his head, so that he may not suffer longer. I and the prince voevoda of Vilna have determined to render this special service to the Commonwealth. But because many plunderers are watching for the inheritance and we cannot get it all, we wish that a part, and that no small one, should come to us. As relatives, we have that right. If with this comparison I have not spoken on a level with your understanding, and have not been able to hit the point, I will tell you in other words: Suppose the Commonwealth a red cloth at which are pulling the Swedes, Hmelnitski, the Hyperboreans,23 the Tartars, the elector, and whosoever lives around. But I and the prince voevoda of Vilna have agreed that enough of that cloth must remain in our hands to make a robe for us; therefore we do not prevent the dragging, but we drag ourselves. Let Hmelnitski stay in the Ukraine; let the Swedes and the elector settle about Prussia and Great Poland; let Rakotsy, or whoever is nearer, take Little Poland, – Lithuania must be for Prince Yanush, and, together with his daughter, for me."
Kmita rose quickly. "I give thanks, your highness; that is all I wanted to know."
"You are going out. Sir Cavalier?"
"I am."
The prince looked carefully at Kmita, and at that moment first noted his pallor and excitement.
"What is the matter, Pan Kmita?" asked he. "You look like a ghost."
"Weariness has knocked me off my feet, and my head is dizzy. Farewell, your highness; I will come before starting, to bow to you again."
"Make haste, then, for I start after midday myself."
"I shall return in an hour at furthest."
When he had said this, Kmita bent his head and went out. In the other room the servants rose at sight of him, but he passed like a drunken man, seeing no one. At the threshold of the room he caught his head with both hands, and began to repeat, almost with a groan, -
"Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews! Jesus, Mary, Joseph!"
With tottering steps he passed through the guard, composed of six men with halberds. Outside the gate were his own men, the sergeant Soroka at the head of them.
"After me!" called Kmita. And he moved through the town toward the inn.
Soroka, an old soldier of Kmita's, knowing him perfectly, noticed at once that something uncommon had happened to the colonel.
"Let your soul be on guard," said he quietly to the men; "woe to him on whom his anger falls now!"
The soldiers hastened their steps in silence, but Kmita did not go at a walk; he almost ran, waving his hand and repeating words well-nigh incoherent.
To the ears of Soroka came only broken phrases, -
"Poisoners, faith-breakers, traitors! Crime and treason, – the two are the same-"
Then he began to mention his old comrades. The names Kokosinski, Kulvyets, Ranitski, Rekuts, and others fell from his lips one after another; a number of times he mentioned Volodyovski. Soroka heard this with wonder, and grew more and more alarmed; but in his mind he thought, -
"Some one's blood will flow; it cannot be otherwise."
Meanwhile they had come to the inn. Kmita shut himself in his room at once, and for about an hour he gave no sign of life. The soldiers meanwhile had tied on the packs and saddled the horses without order.
"That is no harm," said Soroka; "it is necessary to be ready for everything."
"We too are ready!" answered the old fighters, moving their mustaches.
In fact, it came out soon that Soroka knew his colonel well; for Kmita appeared suddenly in the front room, without a cap, in his trousers and shirt only.
"Saddle the horses!" cried he.
"They are saddled."
"Fasten on the packs!"
"They are fastened."
"A ducat a man!" cried the young colonel, who in spite of all his fever and excitement saw that those soldiers had guessed his thought quickly.
"We give thanks, Commander!" cried all in chorus.
"Two men will take the pack-horses and go out of the place immediately toward Dembova. Go slowly through the town; outside the town put the horses on a gallop, and stop not till the forest is reached."
"According to command!"
"Four others load their pistols. For me saddle two horses, and let another be ready."
"I knew there would be something!" muttered Soroka.
"Now, Sergeant, after me!" cried Kmita.
And undressed as he was, in trousers only, and open shirt, he went out of the front room. Soroka followed him, opening his eyes widely with wonder; they went in this fashion to the well in the yard of the inn. Here Kmita stopped, and pointing to the bucket hanging from the sweep, said, -
"Pour water on my head!"
Soroka knew from experience how dangerous it was to ask twice about an order; he seized the rope, let the bucket down into the water, drew up quickly, and taking the bucket in his hands, threw the water on Pan Andrei, who, puffing and blowing like a whale, rubbed his wet hair with his hands, and cried, -
"More!"
Soroka repeated the act, and threw water with all his force, just as if he were putting out a fire.
"Enough!" said Kmita, at length. "Follow me, help me to dress."
Both went to the inn. At the gate they met the two men going out with two pack-horses.
"Slowly through the town; outside the town on a gallop!" commanded Kmita; and he wont in.
Half an hour later he appeared dressed completely, as if for the road, with high boots and an elkskin coat, girded with a leather belt into which was thrust a pistol.
The soldiers noticed, too, that from under his kaftan gleamed the edge of chain mail, as if he were going to battle. He had his sabre also girt high, so as to seize the hilt more easily. His face was calm enough, but stern and threatening. Casting a glance at the soldiers to see if they were ready and armed properly, he mounted his horse, and throwing a ducat at the innkeeper, rode out of the place.
Soroka rode at his side; three others behind, leading a horse. Soon they found themselves on the square filled by Boguslav's troops. There was movement among them already; evidently the command had come to prepare for the road. The horsemen were tightening the girths of the saddle and bridling the horses; the infantry were taking their muskets, stacked before the houses; others were attaching horses to wagons.
Kmita started as it were from meditation.
"Hear me, old man," said he to Soroka; "from the starosta's house does the road go on, – it will not be necessary to come back through the square?"
"But where are we going, Colonel?"
"To Dembova."
"Then we must go from the square past the house. The square will be behind us."
"It is well," said Kmita.
"Oh, if only those men were alive now! Few are fitted for work like this, – few!"
Meanwhile they passed the square, and began to turn toward the starosta's house, which lay about one furlong and a half farther on, near the roadside.
"Stop!" cried Kmita, suddenly.
The soldiers halted, and he turned to them. "Are you ready for death?" asked he, abruptly.
"Ready!" answered in chorus these dare-devils of Orsha.
"We crawled up to Hovanski's throat, and he did not devour us, – do you remember?"
"We remember!"
"There is need to dare great things to-day. If success comes, our gracious king will make lords of you, – I guarantee that! If failure, you will go to the stake!"
"Why not success?" asked Soroka, whose eyes began to gleam like those of an old wolf.
"There will be success!" said three others, – Biloüs, Zavratynski, and Lubyenyets.
"We must carry off the prince marshal!" said Kmita. Then he was silent, wishing to see the impression which the mad thought would make on the soldiers. But they were silent too, and looked on him as on a rainbow; only, their mustaches quivered, and their faces became terrible and murderous.
"The stake is near, the reward far away," added Kmita.
"There are few of us," muttered Zavratynski.
"It is worse than against Hovanski," said Lubyenyets.
"The troops are all in the market-square, and at the house are only the sentries and about twenty attendants," said Kmita, "who are off their guard, and have not even swords at their sides."
"You risk your head; why should we not risk ours?" said Soroka.
"Hear me," continued Kmita. "If we do not take him by cunning, we shall not take him at all. Listen! I will go into the room, and after a time come out with the prince. If the prince will sit on my horse, I will sit on the other, and we will ride on. When we have ridden about a hundred or a hundred and fifty yards, then seize him from both sides by the shoulders, and gallop the horses with all breath."
"According to order!" answered Soroka.
"If I do not come out," continued Kmita, "and you hear a shot in the room, then open on the guards with pistols, and give me the horse as I rush from the door."
"That will be done," answered Soroka.
"Forward!" commanded Kmita.
They moved on, and a quarter of an hour later halted at the gate of the starosta's house. At the gate were six guards with halberds; at the door of the anteroom four men were standing. Around a carriage in the front yard were occupied equerries and outriders, whom an attendant of consequence was overseeing, – a foreigner, as might be known from his dress and wig.
Farther on, near the carriage-house, horses were being attached to two other carriages, to which gigantic Turkish grooms were carrying packs. Over these watched a man dressed in black, with a face like that of a doctor or an astrologer.
Kmita announced himself as he had previously, through the officer of the day, who returned soon and asked him to the prince.
"How are you, Cavalier?" asked the prince, joyfully. "You left me so suddenly that I thought scruples had risen in you from my words, and I did not expect to see you again."
"Of course I could not go without making my obeisance."
"Well, I thought: the prince voevoda has known whom to send on a confidential mission. I make use of you also, for I give you letters to a number of important persons, and to the King of Sweden himself. But why armed as if for battle?"
"I am going among confederates; I have heard right here in this place, and your highness has confirmed the report, that a confederate squadron passed. Even here in Pilvishki they brought a terrible panic on Zolotarenko's men, for a famed soldier is leading that squadron."
"Who is he?"
"Pan Volodyovski; and with him are Mirski, Oskyerko, and the two Skshetuskis, – one that man of Zbaraj, whose wife your highness wanted to besiege in Tykotsin. All rebelled against the prince voevoda; and it is a pity, for they were good soldiers. What is to be done? There are still fools in the Commonwealth who are unwilling to pull the red cloth with Cossacks and Swedes."
"There is never a lack of fools in the world, and especially in this country," said the prince. "Here are the letters; and besides, when you see his Swedish grace, say as if in confidence that in heart I am as much his adherent as my cousin, but for the time I must dissemble."
"Who is not forced to that?" answered Kmita. "Every man dissembles, especially if he thinks to do something great."
"That is surely the case. Acquit yourself well, Sir Cavalier, I will be thankful to you, and will not let the hetman surpass me in rewarding."
"If the favor of your highness is such, I ask reward in advance."
"You have it! Surely my cousin has not furnished you over abundantly for the road. There is a serpent in his money-box."
"May God guard me from asking money! I did not ask it of the hetman, and I will not take it from your highness. I am at my own expense, and I will remain so."
Prince Boguslav looked at the young knight with wonder. "I see that in truth the Kmitas are not of those who look at men's hands. What is your wish then, Sir Cavalier?"
"The matter is as follows: without thinking carefully in Kyedani, I took a horse of high blood, so as to show myself before the Swedes. I do not exaggerate when I say there is not a better in the stables of Kyedani. Now I am sorry for him, and I am afraid to injure him on the road, in the stables of inns, or for want of rest. And as accidents are not hard to meet, he may fall into enemies' hands, even those of that Volodyovski, who personally is terribly hostile to me. I have thought, therefore, to beg your highness to take him to keep and use until I ask for him at a more convenient time."
"Better sell him to me."
"Impossible, – it would be like selling a friend. At a small estimate that horse has taken me a hundred times out of the greatest danger; for he has this virtue too, that in battle he bites the enemy savagely."
"Is he such a good horse?" asked Prince Boguslav, with lively interest.
"Is he good? If I were sure your highness would not be offended, I would bet a hundred gold florins without looking, that your highness has not such a one in your stables."
"Maybe I would bet, if it were not that to-day is not the time for a trial. I will keep him willingly, though; if possible, I would buy. But where is this wonder kept?"
"My men are holding him just here in front of the gate. As to his being a wonder, he is a wonder; for it is no exaggeration to say that the Sultan might covet such a horse. He is not of this country, but from Anatolia; and in Anatolia, as I think, only one such was found."
"Then let us look at him."
"I serve your highness."
Before the gate Kmita's men were holding two horses completely equipped: one was indeed of high breed, black as a raven, with a star on his forehead, and a white fetlock to a leg like a lance; he neighed slightly at sight of his master.
"I guess that to be the one," said Boguslav. "I do not know whether he is such a wonder as you say, but in truth he is a fine horse."
"Try him!" cried Kmita; "or no, I will mount him myself!"
The soldiers gave Kmita the horse; he mounted, and began to ride around near the gate. Under the skilled rider the horse seemed doubly beautiful. His prominent eyes gained brightness as he moved at a trot; he seemed to blow forth inner fire through his nostrils, while the wind unfolded his mane. Pan Kmita described a circle, changed his gait; at last he rode straight on the prince, so that the nostrils of the horse were not a yard from his face, and cried, -
"Halt!"
The horse stopped with his four feet resisting, and stood as if fixed to the ground.
"What do you say?" asked Kmita.
"The eyes and legs of a deer, the gait of a wolf, the nostrils of an elk, and the breast of a woman!" said Boguslav. "Here is all that is needed. Does he understand German command?"
"Yes; for my horse-trainer Zend, who was a Courlander, taught him."
"And the beast is swift?"
"The wind cannot come up with him; a Tartar cannot escape him."
"Your trainer must have been a good one, for I see that the horse is highly taught."
"Is he taught? Your highness will not believe. He goes so in the rank that when the line is moving at a trot, you may let the reins drop and he will not push one half of his nose beyond the line. If your highness will be pleased to try, and if in two furlongs he will push beyond the others half a head, then I will give him as a gift."
"That would be the greatest wonder, not to advance with dropped reins."
"It is wonderful and convenient, for both hands of the rider are free. More than once have I had a sabre in one hand and a pistol in the other, and the horse went alone."
"But if the rank turns?"
"Then he will turn too without breaking the line."
"Impossible!" exclaimed the prince; "no horse will do that. I have seen in France horses of the king's musketeers, greatly trained, of purpose not to spoil the court ceremonies, but still it was necessary to guide them with reins."
"The wit of man is in this horse. Let your highness try him yourself."
"Give him here!" said the prince, after a moment's thought.
Kmita held the horse till Boguslav mounted. He sprang lightly into the saddle, and began to pat the steed on his shining neck.
"A wonderful thing," said he; "the best horses shed their hair in the autumn, but this one is as if he had come out of water. In what direction shall we go?"
"Let us move in a line, and if your highness permits, toward the forest. The road is even and broad, but in the direction of the town some wagon might come in the way."
"Let us ride toward the forest."
"Just two furlongs. Let your highness drop the reins and start on a gallop. Two men on each side, and I will ride a little behind."
"Take your places!" said the prince.
The line was formed; they turned the horses' heads from the town. The prince was in the middle.
"Forward!" said he. "On a gallop from the start, – march!"
The line shot on, and after a certain time was moving like a whirlwind. A cloud of dust hid them from the eyes of the attendants and equerries, who, collecting in a crowd at the gate, looked with curiosity at the racing. The trained horses going at the highest speed, snorting from effort, had run already a furlong or more; and the prince's steed, though not held by the reins, did not push forward an inch. They ran another furlong. Kmita turned, and seeing behind only a cloud of dust, through which the starosta's house could barely be seen, and the people standing before it not at all, cried with a terrible voice, -
"Take him!"
At this moment Biloüs and the gigantic Zavratynski seized both arms of the prince, and squeezed them till the bones cracked in their joints, and holding him in their iron fists, put spurs to their own horses.
The prince's horse in the middle held the line, neither pushing ahead nor holding back an inch. Astonishment, fright, the whirlwind beating in his face, deprived Prince Boguslav of speech for the first moment. He struggled once and a second time, – without result, however, for pain from his twisted arms pierced him through.
"What is this, ruffians? Know ye not who I am?" cried he at last.
Thereupon Kmita pushed him with the barrel of the pistol between the shoulders. "Resistance is useless; it will only bring a bullet in your body!" cried he.
"Traitor!" said the prince.
"But who are you?" asked Kmita.
And they galloped on farther.
CHAPTER XXVII
They ran long through the pine-forest with such speed that the trees by the roadside seemed to flee backward in panic; inns, huts of forest guards, pitch-clearings, flashed by, and at times wagons singly or a few together, going to Pilvishki. From time to time Boguslav bent forward in the saddle as if to struggle; but his arms were only wrenched the more painfully in the iron hands of the soldiers, while Pan Andrei held the pistol-barrel between the princess shoulders again, and they rushed on till the white foam was falling in flakes from the horses.
At last they were forced to slacken the speed, for breath failed both men and beasts, and Pilvishki was so far behind that all possibility of pursuit had ceased. They rode on then a certain time at a walk and in silence, surrounded by a cloud of steam, which was issuing from the horses.
For a long time the prince said nothing; he was evidently trying to calm himself and cool his blood. When he had done this he asked, -
"Whither are you taking me?"
"Your highness will know that at the end of the road," answered Kmita.
Boguslav was silent, but after a while said, "Cavalier, command these trash to let me go, for they are pulling out my arms. If you command them to do so, they will only hang; if not, they will go to the stake."
"They are nobles, not trash," answered Kmita; "and as to the punishment which your highness threatens, it is not known whom death will strike first."
"Know ye on whom ye have raised hands?" asked the prince, turning to the soldiers.
"We know," answered they.
"By a million horned devils!" cried Boguslav, with an outburst. "Will you command these people to let me go, or not?"
"Your highness, I will order them to bind your arms behind your back; then you will be quieter."
"Impossible! You will put my arms quite out of joint."
"I would give orders to let another off on his word that he would not try to escape, but you know how to break your word," said Kmita.
"I will give another word," answered the prince, – "that not only will I escape at the first opportunity, but I will have you torn apart with horses, when you fall into my hands."
"What God wants to give, he gives!" said Kmita. "But I prefer a sincere threat to a lying promise. Let go his hands, only hold his horse by the bridle; but, your highness, look here! I have but to touch the trigger to put a bullet into your body, and I shall not miss, for I never miss. Sit quietly; do not try to escape."
"I do not care, Cavalier, for you or your pistol."
When he had said this, the prince stretched his aching arms, to straighten them and shake off the numbness. The soldiers caught the horse's bridle on both sides, and led him on.
After a while Boguslav said, "Yon dare not look me in the eyes, Pan Kmita; you hide in the rear."
"Indeed!" answered Kmita; and urging forward his horse, he pushed Zavratynski away, and seizing the reins of the prince's horse, he looked Boguslav straight in the face. "And how is my horse? Have I added even one virtue?"
"A good horse!" answered the prince. "If you wish, I will buy him."
"This horse deserves a better fate than to carry a traitor till his death."
"You are a fool, Pan Kmita."
"Yes, for I believed the Radzivills."
Again came a moment of silence, which was broken by the prince.
"Tell me, Pan Kmita, are you sure that you are in your right mind, that your reason has not left you? Have you asked yourself what you have done, madman? Has it not come to your head that as things are now it would have been better for you if your mother had not given you birth, and that no one, not only in Poland, but in all Europe, would have ventured on such a dare-devil deed?"
"Then it is clear that there is no great courage in that Europe, for I have carried off your highness, hold you, and will not let you go."
"It can only be an affair with a madman," said the prince, as if to himself.
"My gracious prince," answered Pan Andrei, "you are in my hands; be reconciled to that, and waste not words in vain. Pursuit will not come up, for your men think to this moment that you have come off with me voluntarily. When my men took you by the arms no one saw it, for the dust covered us; and even if there were no dust, neither the equerries nor the guards could have seen, it was so far. They will wait for you two hours; the third hour they will be impatient, the fourth and fifth uneasy, and the sixth will send out men in search; but we meanwhile shall be beyond Maryapole."
"What of that?"
"This, that they will not pursue; and even if they should start immediately in pursuit, your horses are just from the road, while ours are fresh. Even if by some miracle they should come up, that would not save you, for, as truly as you see me here, I should open your head, – which I shall do if nothing else is possible. This is the position! Radzivill has a court, an army, cannon, dragoons; Kmita has six men, and Kmita holds Radzivill by the neck."
"What further?" asked the prince.
"Nothing further! We will go where it pleases me. Thank God, your highness, that you are alive; for were it not that I gave orders to throw many gallons of water on my head to-day, you would be in the other world already, that is, in hell, for two reasons, – as a traitor and as a Calvinist."
"And would you have dared to do that?"
"Without praising myself I say that your highness would not easily find an undertaking on which I would not venture; you have the best proof of that in yourself."
The prince looked carefully at the young man and said, "Cavalier, the devil has written on your face that you are ready for anything, and that is the reason why I have a proof in myself. I tell you, indeed, that you have been able to astonish me with your boldness, and that is no easy thing."
"That's all one to me. Give thanks to God, your highness, that you are alive yet, and quits."
"No, Cavalier. First of all, do you thank God; for if one hair had fallen from my head, then know that the Radzivills would find you even under the earth. If you think that because there is disunion between us and those of Nyesvyej and Olyta, and that they will not pursue you, you are mistaken. Radzivill blood must be avenged, an awful example must be given, otherwise there would be no life for us in this Commonwealth. You cannot hide abroad, either: the Emperor of Germany will give you up, for I am a prince of the German Empire; the Elector of Brandenburg is my uncle; the Prince of Orange is his brother-in-law; the King and Queen of France and their ministers are my friends. Where will you hide? The Turks and Tartars will sell you, though we had to give them half our fortune. You will not find on earth a corner, nor such deserts, nor such people-"
"It is a wonder to me," replied Kmita, "that your highness takes such thought in advance for my safety. A great person a Radzivill! Still I have only to touch a trigger."
"I do not deny that. More than once it has happened in the world that a great man died at the hands of a common one. A camp-follower killed Pompey; French kings perished at the hands of low people. Without going farther, the same thing happened to my great father. But I ask you what will come next?"
"What is that to me? I have never taken much thought of what will be to-morrow. If it comes to close quarters with all the Radzivills, God knows who will be warmed up best. The sword has been long hanging over my head, but the moment I close my eyes I sleep as sweetly as a suslik. And if one Radzivill is not enough for me, I will carry off a second, and a third."
"As God is dear to me, Cavalier, you please me much; for I repeat that you alone in Europe could dare a deed like this. The beast does not care, nor mind what will come to-morrow. I love daring people, and there are fewer and fewer of them in the world. Just think! he has carried off a Radzivill and holds him as his own. Where were you reared in this fashion, Cavalier? Whence do you come?"
"I am banneret of Orsha."
"Pan Banneret of Orsha, I grieve that the Radzivills are losing a man like you, for with such men much might be done. If it were not a question of myself-h'm! I would spare nothing to win you."
"Too late!" said Kmita.
"That is to be understood," answered the prince. "Much too late! But I tell you beforehand that I will order you only to be shot, for you are worthy to die a soldier's death. What an incarnate devil to carry me off from the midst of my men!"
Kmita made no answer; the prince meditated awhile, then cried, -
"If you free me at once, I will not take vengeance. Only give me your word that you will tell no one of this, and command your men to be silent."
"Impossible!" replied Kmita.
"Do you want a ransom?"
"I do not."
"What the devil, then, did you carry me off for? I cannot understand it."
"It would take a long time to tell. I will tell your highness later."
"But what have we to do on the road unless to talk? Acknowledge, Cavalier, one thing: you carried me off in a moment of anger and desperation, and now you don't know well what to do with me."
"That is my affair!" answered Kmita; "and if I do not know what to do, it will soon be seen."
Impatience was depicted on Prince Boguslav's face.
"You are not over-communicative, Pan Banneret of Orsha; but answer me one question at least sincerely: Did you come to me, to Podlyasye, with a plan already formed of attacking my person, or did it enter your head in the last moment?"
"To that I can answer your highness sincerely, for my lips are burning to tell you why I left your cause; and while I am alive, while there is breath in my body, I shall not return to it. The prince voevoda of Vilna deceived me, and in advance brought me to swear on the crucifix that I would not leave him till death."
"And you are keeping the oath well. There is nothing to be said on that point."
"True!" cried Kmita, violently. "If I have lost my soul, if I must be damned, it is through the Radzivills. But I give myself to the mercy of God, and I would rather lose my soul, I would rather burn eternally, than to sin longer with knowledge and willingly, – than to serve longer, knowing that I serve sin and treason. May God have mercy on me! I prefer to burn, I prefer a hundred times to burn; I should burn surely, if I remained with you. I have nothing to lose; but at least I shall say at the judgment of God: 'I knew not what I was swearing, and had I discovered that I had sworn treason to the country, destruction to the Polish name, I should have broken the oath right there.' Now let the Lord God be my judge."