A Terrible Vengeance

IV

The day broke, but without sunshine: the sky was overcast and a fine rain was falling on the plains, on the forest, and on the broad Dnieper. Katerina woke up, but not joyfully: her eyes were tear-stained, and she was restless and uneasy.

“My dear husband, my precious husband! I have had a strange dream!”

“What dream, my sweet wife Katerina?”

“I had a strange dream, and as vivid as though it were real, that my father was that very monster whom we saw at the Captain’s.

But I beg you, do not put faith in the dream: one dreams all manner of foolishness. I dreamed that I was standing before him, was trembling and frightened, my whole body racked with pain at every word he said. If only you had heard what he said…”

“What did he say, my darling Katerina?”

“He said: ‘Look at me, Katerina, how handsome I am! People are wrong in saying I am ugly. I should make you a fine husband. See what a look there is in my eyes!’ Then he turned his fiery eyes upon me. I cried out and woke up…”

“Yes, dreams tell many a true thing. But do you know that all is not quiet beyond the mountain? I believe the Poles may have begun to show themselves again. Gorobets sent me a message to keep alert, but he need not have troubled—I am not asleep as it is. My Cossacks have piled up a dozen barricades during the night. We will treat Poland to leaden plums and the Poles will dance to our sticks.”

“And Father, does he know of this?”

“Your father is a burden on my back! I’ll be damned if I can understand him. Perhaps he has committed many sins in foreign lands. What other reason can there be? Here he has lived with us more than a month and not once has he made merry like a true Cossack! He would not drink mead! Do you hear, Katerina, he would not drink the mead which I wrung out of the Jews at Brest. Boy!” cried Danilo, “run to the cellar, boy, and bring me the Jews’ mead! He won’t even drink vodka! What do you make of that? I believe, my lady Katerina, that he does not believe in Christ. Eh, what do you think?”

“God forgive you for what you are saying, my lord Danilo!”

“Strange, wife!” Danilo went on, taking the earthenware mug from the Cossack, “even the damned Catholics have a weakness for vodka; it is only the Turks who do not drink. Well, Stetsko, have you had a good sip of mead in the cellar?”

“I just tried it, sir.”

“You are lying, you son of a bitch! See how the flies have settled on your mustache! I can see from your eyes that you have gulped down half a pailful. Oh, you Cossacks! What reckless fellows! Ready to give all else to a comrade, but he keeps his drink to himself. It is a long time, my lady Katerina, since I have been drunk. Eh?”

“A long time indeed! Why, last…”

“Don’t be afraid; don’t be afraid, I won’t drink more than a mugful! And here is the Turkish abbot at the door!” he muttered through his teeth, seeing his father-in-law stooping to come in.

“What’s this, my daughter!” said the father, taking his cap off his head and adjusting his girdle where hung a saber set with precious stones; “the sun is already high and your dinner is not ready.”

“Dinner is ready, my lord and father, we will serve it at once! Bring out the pot of dumplings!” said the young mistress to the old maidservant who was wiping the wooden bowls. “Stop, I had better get it out myself, while you call the men.”

They all sat down on the floor in a ring; facing the icons sat the father, on his left Danilo, on his right Katerina, and ten of Danilo’s most trusted Cossacks in blue and yellow coats.

“I don’t like these dumplings!” said the father, laying down his spoon after eating a little. “There is no flavor in them!”

“I know you like Jewish noodles better,” thought Danilo. “Why do you say there is no flavor in the dumplings, father-in-law? Are they badly made or what? My Katerina makes dumplings such as the Hetman does not often taste. And there is no need to despise them: it is a Christian dish! All holy people and godly saints have eaten dumplings!”

Not a word from the father. Danilo, too, said no more.

They served roast boar with cabbage and plums.

“I don’t like pork,” said Katerina’s father, picking out a spoonful of cabbage.

“Why don’t you like pork?” said Danilo. “It is only Turks and Jews who won’t eat pork.”

The father frowned more angrily than ever.

He ate nothing but some baked flour pudding with milk over it, and instead of vodka drank some black liquid from a bottle he took out of his bosom.

After dinner Danilo slept like a hero and only woke toward evening. He sat down to write to the Cossack troops, while his young wife sat on the stove, rocking the cradle with her foot. The lord Danilo sat there, his left eye on his writing while his right eye looked out of the window. From the window far away he could see the shining mountains and the Dnieper; beyond the Dnieper lay the dark blue forest; overhead glimmered the clear night sky. But the lord Danilo was not gazing at the faraway sky and the blue forest; he was watching the projecting tongue of land on which stood the old castle. He thought that a light gleamed at a narrow little window in the castle. But everything was still; it must have been his imagination. All he could hear was the hollow murmur of the Dnieper down below and, from three sides, the resounding splash of the waves suddenly awakening. It was not in turmoil. Like an old man, it merely muttered and grumbled, finding nothing that pleased it. Everything about it had changed; it was feuding with the mountains, the woods, and the meadows on its banks, carrying its complaints to the Black Sea.

And now on the wide expanse of the Dnieper the black speck of a boat appeared and again there was a gleam of light in the castle. Danilo gave a low whistle and the faithful servant ran in at the sound.

“Make haste, Stetsko, bring with you a sharp sword and a musket, and follow me!”

“Are you going out?” asked Katerina.

“I am, wife. I must inspect everything and see that all is in order.”

“But I am afraid to be left alone. I am weary with sleep: what if I should have the same dream again? And, indeed, I am not sure it was a dream—it was all so vivid.”

“The old woman will stay with you, and there are Cossacks sleeping in the porch and in the courtyard.”

“The old woman is asleep already, and somehow I put no trust in the Cossacks. Listen, Danilo: lock me in the room and take the key with you. Then I shall not be so afraid; and let the Cossacks lie before the door.”

“So be it!” said Danilo, wiping the dust off his musket and loading it with powder.

The faithful Stetsko stood ready with all the Cossack’s equipment. Danilo put on his astrakhan cap, closed the window, bolted and locked the door, and stepping between his sleeping Cossacks, went out of the courtyard toward the mountains.

The sky was almost completely clear again. A fresh breeze blew lightly from the Dnieper. But for the wail of a gull in the distance all was silent. But a faint rustle stirred… Burulbash and his faithful servant stealthily hid behind the brambles that screened a barricade of felled trunks. Someone in a scarlet coat, with two pistols and a sword at his side, came down the mountainside. “It’s my father-in-law,” said Danilo, watching him from behind the bushes.

“Where is he going at this hour, and what is he up to? Be alert, Stetsko: keep a sharp watch which road your mistress’s father takes.”

The man in the scarlet coat went down to the riverbank and turned toward the jutting tongue of land.

“Ah, so that is where he is going,” said Danilo. “Tell me, Stetsko, hasn’t he gone to the sorcerer’s den?”

“Nowhere else, for certain, my lord Danilo! Or we should have seen him on the other side; but he disappeared near the castle.”

“Wait a minute: let us get out and follow his track. There is some secret in this. Yes, Katerina, I told you your father was an evil man; he does nothing like a good Christian.”

Danilo and his faithful servant leaped out on the tongue of land. Soon they were out of sight; the slumbering forest around the castle hid them. A gleam of light came into an upper window; the Cossacks stood below wondering how to climb to it; no gate nor door was to be seen; doubtless there was a door in the courtyard, but how could they climb in? They could hear in the distance the clanking of chains and the stirring of dogs.

“Why am I wasting time?” said Danilo, seeing a big oak tree by the window. “Stay here, friend! I will climb up the oak; from it I can look straight into the window.”

With this he took off his girdle, put down his sword so that it might not jingle, and gripping the branches, lifted himself up. There was still a light at the window. Sitting on a branch close to the window, he held on to the tree and looked in: it was light in the room but there was no candle. On the wall were mysterious symbols; weapons were hanging there, but all were strange—not such as are worn by Turks or Tartars or Poles or Christians or the gallant Swedish people. Bats flitted to and fro under the ceiling and their shadows flitted to and fro over the floor, the doors, and the walls. Then the door noiselessly opened. Someone in a scarlet coat walked in and went straight up to the table, which was covered with a white cloth. “It is he; it is my father-in-law!” Danilo crept a little lower down and huddled closer to the tree.

But his father-in-law had no time to look whether anyone were peeping in at the window. He came in, morose and ill-humored; he drew the cloth off the table, and at once the room was filled with transparent blue light, but the waves of pale golden light with which the room had been filled, eddied and dived, as in a blue sea, without mingling with it, and ran through it in streaks like the lines in marble. Then he set a pot upon the table and began scattering some herbs in it.

Danilo looked more attentively and saw that he was no longer wearing the scarlet coat; and that now he had on wide trousers, such as Turks wear, with pistols in his girdle, and on his head a strange cap embroidered all over with letters that were neither Russian nor Polish. As he looked at his face the face began to change: his nose grew longer and hung right down over his lips; in one instant his mouth stretched to his ears; a crooked tooth peeped out beyond his lips; and Danilo saw before him the same sorcerer who had appeared at the Captain’s wedding feast. “Your dream was true, Katerina!” thought Burulbash.

The sorcerer began pacing around the table; the symbols on the wall began changing more rapidly, the bats flitted more swiftly up and down and to and fro. The blue light grew dimmer and dimmer and at last seemed to fade away. And now there was only a dim pinkish light in the room. It spread through the room and a faint ringing sound was heard. The light seemed to flood every corner, and suddenly it vanished and all was darkness. Nothing was heard but a murmur like the wind in the quiet evening hour when hovering over the mirrorlike water it bends the silvery willows lower into its depths. And it seemed to Danilo as though the moon were shining in the room, the stars were moving, there were vague glimpses of the bright blue sky within it, and he even felt the chill of night coming from it. And Danilo imagined (he began fingering his mustaches to make sure he was not dreaming) that it was no longer the sky but his own hut he was seeing through the window; his Tartar and Turkish swords were hanging on the walls; around the walls were the shelves with pots and pans; on the table stood bread and salt; the cradle hung from the ceiling… but hideous faces appeared where the icons should have been; on the stove… but a thick mist hid all and it was dark again. And accompanied by a faint ringing sound the rosy light flooded the room again, and again the sorcerer stood motionless in his strange turban. The sounds grew louder and deeper, the delicate rosy light shone more brilliant, and something white like a cloud hovered in the middle of the room; and it seemed to Danilo that the cloud was not a cloud, but that a woman was standing there; but what was she made of? Surely not of air? Why did she stand without touching the floor, without leaning on anything, why did the rosy light and the magic symbols on the wall show through her? And now she moved her transparent head; a soft light shone in her pale blue eyes; her hair curled and fell over her shoulders like a pale gray mist; a faint flush colored her lips like the scarcely perceptible crimson glimmer of dawn glowing through the white transparent sky of morning; the brows darkened a little… Ah, it was Katerina! Danilo felt his limbs turned to stone; he tried to speak, but his lips moved without uttering a sound.

The sorcerer stood without moving. “Where have you been?” he asked, and the figure standing before him trembled.

“Oh, why did you call me up?” she moaned softly. “I was so happy. I was in the place where I was born and lived for fifteen years. Ah, how good it was there! How green and fragrant was the meadow where I used to play in childhood! The darling wild flowers were the same as ever, and our hut and the garden! Oh, how my dear mother embraced me! How much love there was in her eyes! She caressed me, she kissed my lips and my cheeks, combed out my fair hair with a fine comb… Father!” Then she bent her pale eyes on the sorcerer. “Why did you murder my mother?”

The sorcerer shook his finger at her menacingly. “Did I ask you to speak of that?” And the ethereal beauty trembled. “Where is your mistress now?”

“My mistress Katerina has fallen asleep and I was glad of it: I flew up and darted off. For long years I have longed to see my mother. I was suddenly fifteen again, I felt light as a bird. Why have you sent for me?”

“You remember all I said to you yesterday?” the sorcerer said, so softly that it was hard to catch the words.

“I remember, I remember! But what would I not give to forget them. Poor Katerina, there is much she doesn’t know that her soul knows!”

“It is Katerina’s soul,” thought Danilo, but still he dared not stir.

“Repent, Father! Is it not dreadful that after every murder you commit the dead rise up from their graves?”

“You are at your old tune again!” said the sorcerer menacingly. “I will have my way, I will make you do as I will. Katerina shall love me…”

“Oh, you are a monster and not my father!” she moaned. “No, your will shall not be done! It is true that by your foul spells you have power to call up and torture her soul; but only God can make her do what He wills. No, never shall Katerina, so long as I am living in her body, bring herself to so ungodly a deed. Father, a terrible judgment is at hand! Even if you were not my father, you would never make me false to my faithful and beloved husband. Even if my husband were not true and dear to me, I would not betray him, for God detests souls that are faithless and false to their vows.”

Then she fixed her pale eyes on the window under which Danilo was sitting, and was silent and still as death.

“What are you looking at? Whom do you see there…?” cried the sorcerer.

The wraith of Katerina trembled. But already Danilo was on the ground and with his faithful Stetsko making his way to his mountain home. “Terrible, terrible!” he murmured to himself, feeling a thrill of fear in his Cossack heart, and he rapidly crossed his courtyard, in which the Cossacks slept as soundly as ever, all but one who sat on guard smoking a pipe.

The sky was all studded with stars.