"Another such deed I shall never accomplish," said Pan Andrei; and boastfulness seized him completely. Still, in spite of these thoughts he did not forget where he was, whither he was going, what he intended to do; and he began to advance like a wolf on a night pasture. He looked behind once and a second time. No church, no cloister! All was covered with thick, impenetrable gloom. He noted, however, by the time, that he must have advanced far already, and that the trench might be right there.
"I am curious to know if there are sentries," thought he.
But he had not advanced two steps after giving himself this question, when, in front of him, was heard the tramp of measured steps and a number of voices inquired at various distances,
"Who goes?"
Pan Andrei stood as if fixed to the earth. He felt hot.
"Ours," answered a number of voices.
"The watchword!"
"Upsala."
"The counter-sign!"
"The crown."
Kmita saw at this moment that there was a change of sentries. "I'll give you Upsala and a crown!" And he rejoiced. This was really for him a very favorable circumstance, for he might pass the line of guards at the moment of changing sentries, when the tramp of the soldiers drowned his own steps.
In fact, he did so without the least difficulty, and went after the returning soldiers rather boldly up to the trench itself. There they made a turn to go around it; but he pushed quickly into the ditch and hid in it.
Meanwhile objects had become somewhat more visible; Pan Andrei thanked Heaven, for in the previous darkness he could not by feeling have found the gun sought for. Now, by throwing back his head and straining his vision, he saw above him a black line, indicating the edge of the trench, and also the black outlines of the baskets between which stood the guns.
He could indeed see their jaws thrust out a little above the trench. Advancing slowly in the ditch, he discovered the great gun at last. He halted and began to listen. From the intrenchment a noise came, a murmur; evidently the infantry were near the guns, in readiness. But the height of the intrenchment concealed Kmita; they might hear him, they could not see him. Now he had only to rise from below to the mouth of the gun, which was high above his head.
Fortunately the sides of the ditch were not too steep; and besides the embankment freshly made, or moist with water, had not frozen, since for some time there had been a thaw.
Taking note of all this, Kmita began to sink holes quietly in the slope of the intrenchment and to climb slowly to the gun. After fifteen minutes' work he was able to seize the opening of the culverin. Soon he was hanging in the air, but his uncommon strength permitted him to hold himself thus till he pushed the roll into the jaws of the cannon.
"Here's dog sausage for thee!" muttered he, "only don't choke with it!"
Then he slipped down and began to look for the string, which, fastened to the inner side of the roll, was hanging to the ditch. After a while he felt it with his hand. But then came the greatest difficulty, for he had to strike fire and ignite the string.
Kmita waited for a moment, thinking that the noise would increase somewhat among the soldiers in the breastworks. At last he began to strike the flint lightly with the steel. But that moment above his head was heard in German the question,
"Who is there in the ditch?"
"It is I, Hans!" answered Kmita, without hesitation; "the devils have taken my ramrod into the ditch, and I am striking fire to find it."
"All right, all right," said the gunner. "It is your luck there is no firing, for the wind would have taken your head off."
"Ah!" thought Kmita, "the gun besides my charge has still its own, so much the better."
At that moment the sulphur-string caught, and delicate little sparks began to run upward along its dry exterior.
It was time to disappear. Kmita hurried along the ditch with all the strength in his legs, not losing an instant, not thinking overmuch of the noise he was making. But when he had run twenty yards, curiosity overcame in him the feeling of his terrible danger.
"The string has gone out, there is moisture in the air!" thought he; and he stopped. Casting a look behind, he saw a little spark yet, but much higher than he had left it.
"Eh, am I not too near?" thought he; and fear hurried him forward.
He pushed on at full speed; all at once he struck a stone and fell. At that moment a terrible roar rent the air; the earth trembled, pieces of wood, iron, stones, lumps of ice and earth, whistled about his ears, and here his sensations ended.
After that were heard new explosions in turn. These were powder-boxes standing near the cannon which exploded from the shock.
But Kmita did not hear these; he lay as if dead in the ditch. He did not hear also how, after a time of deep silence, the groans of men were heard, cries and shouts for help; how nearly half the army, Swedish and allied, assembled.
The confusion and uproar lasted long, till from the chaos of testimony the Swedish general reached the fact that the siege-gun had been blown up of purpose by some one. Search was ordered immediately. In the morning the searching soldiers found Kmita lying in the ditch.
It appeared that he was merely stunned from the explosion. He had lost, to begin with, control of his hands and feet. His powerlessness lasted the whole ensuing day. They nursed him with the utmost care. In the evening he had recovered his power almost completely.
He was brought then by command before Miller, who occupied the middle place at the table in his quarters; around him sat the Prince of Hesse, Count Veyhard, Sadovski, all the noted officers of the Swedes, of the Poles, Zbrojek, Kalinski, and Kuklinovski. The last at sight of Kmita became blue, his eyes burned like two coals, and his mustaches began to quiver. Without awaiting the question of the general, he said,
"I know this bird. He is from the Chenstohova garrison. His name is Babinich."
Kmita was silent; pallor and weariness were evident on his face, but his glance was bold and his countenance calm.
"Did you blow up the siege-gun?" asked Miller.
"I did."
"How did you do it?"
Kmita stated all briefly, concealed nothing. The officers looked at one another in amazement.
"A hero!" whispered the Prince of Hesse to Sadovski.
But Sadovski inclined to Count Veyhard. "Count Veyhard," asked he, "how are we to take a fortress with such defenders? What do you think, will they surrender?"
"There are more of us in the fortress ready for such deeds," said Kmita. "You know not the day nor the hour."
"I too have more than one halter in the camp," said Miller.
"We know that. But you will not take Yasna Gora while there is one man alive there."
A moment of silence followed. Then Miller inquired,
"Is your name Babinich?"
Pan Andrei thought that after what he had done, and in presence of death, the time had come in which he had no need to conceal his name. Let people forget the faults and transgressions bound up with it; let glory and devotion shine over them.
"My name is not Babinich," said he, with a certain pride, "my name is Andrei Kmita; I was colonel of my own personal squadron in the Lithuanian contingent."
Hardly had Kuklinovski heard this when he sprang up as if possessed, stuck out his eyes, opened his mouth, and began to strike his sides with his hands. At last he cried,
"General, I beg for a word without delay, without delay."
A murmur rose at the same time among the Polish officers, which the Swedes heard with wonder, since for them the name Kmita meant nothing. They noted at once that this must be no common soldier, for Zbrojek rose, and approaching the prisoner said,