As a mere youth, iron-willed and indefatigable, sharp-witted and full of ambition, he had striven hard to reclaim his hopelessly mortgaged inheritance. But no saving and no diligence of his could make up for the failings of his spendthrift ancestry. He gave it up, and, entering the Prussian civil service, turned Protestant for the sake of advancement; nor was he without prospect of gaining his end, and he might have risen to power had not his over-zealous chase after prosperity overstepped the lines of rect.i.tude marked out in that country for a servant of the State. He was dismissed; upon which, repairing to Cracow, he resolved to read for holy orders. He was barely thirty when he thus entered the Church, and upon his consecration was appointed to the somewhat anomalous charge at Kossowince. His wondrous success there failed not to strike the Archbishop, who meditated work for him at Lemberg itself, but Sanecki submitted his earnest request "that he might be left to lead the converted flock in the way they should go"; for he believed that he could gather wealth while so engaged. His ambition sated, he was anxious now to satisfy that other craving of his debased soul, the love of riches.

And success appeared to attend his efforts; but the means he had recourse to were appalling. Not many weeks pa.s.sed before the people of Kossowince discovered that the shepherd they had chosen was not nearly so gentle as they supposed, and before the year was out they had come to the conviction that a very fiend was addressing them from the pulpit and lording it over them at the manor. For it is a fact that the fate of every Galician village in those days was in the hands of two men--viz.: the mandatar and the parish priest. And here this power was vested in one and the same--Victor von Sanecki literally could do what he pleased. If a peasant refused an unjust t.i.the he as mandatar could send to prison; if he refused an oppressive tribute to the mandatar it was the priest that could inflict the lash of ecclesiastical punishment. The people naturally struggled hard against the injustice, appealing to the law; but it was no less in the nature of things that they found no redress, since before the civil authorities Sanecki claimed the privileges of the clergy, while to his spiritual superiors he pleaded his position as mandatar and steward of the revenues.

Moreover, the stubborn character borne previously by the converted parish was remembered, and Sanecki was not slow to point out that having adopted the Catholic faith for outward reasons merely, they naturally were unwilling to meet the demands of the Church. So everything went against them, for the Romish creed was in the ascendant, and fines were imposed to teach them submission. A military detachment was quartered upon the refractory parish to enforce payment, and when the uttermost farthing had been wrested from them their goods were seized; not till a man had been brought to hopeless penury was he left alone by the priest. It seemed as though Sanecki could commit the vilest wrongs with impunity; but he cared to inflict punishment on those only who could offer money or money's worth to evade it, and his direst means of extortion, the refusal of Church burial, always fell on the wealthy.

Such was the man against whom Taras in the first instance lifted the avenger's arm. As it was close upon midnight when he with his followers started from the Crystal Springs, the Pruth was not reached till after two o'clock. And when the river had been forded, and the shivering Kap.r.o.nski left to himself, the band in headlong gallop dashed onward through the plain. Kossowince was reached, and in spite of the surrounding darkness Taras perceived a horseman stationed at the entrance. He was appointed by the villagers to act as the avenger's guide.

Taras and his men drew up. "How many soldiers are there in the place?"

he inquired; "and how are they quartered?"

"There is an officer with fifty men," reported the peasant; "Whitecoats from Lombardy with green facings. Thirty of them are at the parsonage, for the fiend himself lives at the manor, allowing the manse to be used as a barracks, for which we must pay him a rental of five hundred florins....."

"And where are the others?"

"Here and there about the cottages, one or two in each, all over the village. The officer and his man only are lodged at the manor. There are five or six retainers there besides, that is all. But have a care; the parsonage is not a hundred yards distant."

"Any sentries?"

"Yes, one--outside the manse. But these fellows feel the cold here; they are generally found cuddled up in their cloaks."

"And the villagers understand that they keep quiet?"

"Yes, much as they long to take part. But they see it is best so. It is different with me, who have nothing to lose. I am Jacek Borodenko, and the fiend has beggared me and mine entirely. What better can I do but join you for good?"

"We shall see," said Taras, and turned to his men. "The soldiery about the village need not troublous; it is the parsonage and the manse that require our attention. We will divide our force I shall want the Royal Eagle, Jemilian and Sefko, Wa.s.silj and Sophron, Stas Barilko and Karol WyG.o.da, to come with me; we shall carry out the avenger's part at the manor. You others, all of you, shall follow Nashko. And to you," he added, turning to the Jew, "I leave it to deal with the sentry and make sure that no Whitecoat shall leave the manse. I rely on it that I shall not be hindered in my business while there is breath left in any of you!... But let every man here remember my injunction: he that shads blood for the mere thirst of it shall meet with his deserts in due time; but if any of you lay his hand on any property whatsoever, I shall shoot him on the spot.... Now let us be gone, keeping silence."

And cautiously they moved toward the scene of their ghastly labour. The night yet curtained the plain, but on the eastern horizon a faint streak betokened the approach of day.

By the church they separated. Taras and his seven men, led by Jacek, proceeded towards the manor, the others halting by the church, while some of their number slid from their horses and moved away stealthily to seize the sentry.

"Do you know the ins and outs of the house?" Taras inquired of the guide.

"Yes; as well as of my own pocket," replied the man. "I was in service there in the days of the late countess."

"Then I daresay you can show us some back door that will yield readily."

"Hardly," said the guide, "for the fiend is on his guard; he has iron-barred every door of the place. But Michalko, the groom, has a sweetheart in the village, and if we are lucky we may find the postern ajar."

Their very horses trod with noiseless footfall, carrying them to their destination un.o.bserved. Jacek tried the latch, the door moved on its hinges, and the little band dismounted. Wa.s.silj was left to guard the entrance, while the rest of the men followed their stern captain through a vaulted pa.s.sage into the building. It was their first aim to make sure of the half-dozen retainers who slept in a large room in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Jacek approached on tiptoe. "The key is in the lock," he whispered, and turned it forthwith. Nothing was heard from within but the snoring of the occupants.

"It is as well to be prudent," said Taras; "they are sure to wake up with the commotion, and, forcing the door, might give us trouble. This is your place, then, Sophron and Karol," and the two men took their position accordingly. "Now for the officer. Where shall we find him?"

"On the first floor," reported the guide; "not far from the fiend's lair." The man, in common with all the villagers, thus habitually designated their shepherd, as though Victor von Sanecki had never been known by any other name. They ascended the stairs. On reaching the landing the report of a firelock was heard, a second, and a third in quick succession; a din of voices rose in the distance; the garrison at the manse evidently was showing fight.

At this moment a door opened, the officer bursting upon the scene, his pistol in one hand and his sword in the other. But quick as lightning Taras had closed with him, disarming him, and with powerful grasp holding him helpless on the ground, his servant and a lackey or two speedily sharing the same fate at the hands of the others.

"There is no time to be lost," said Taras. One of the bedrooms was standing open, its window was iron-barred, and there was no other outlet. "Push them in!" The door was locked upon the overpowered men, Sefko being ordered to guard it while the others now made for the priest's chamber.

They found it secured, but Taras, with the weight of his gigantic frame, had no trouble in making the door yield, his men, with the b.u.t.t-ends of their muskets finishing the operation. They entered a s.p.a.cious apartment, modestly furnished; a lamp expired, not at the breath of any man, but in consequence of a sharp draught from an open window, as the invaders perceived by the light of their torches. The room was empty, the bed to all appearance recently forsaken, and the cas.e.m.e.nt wide open.

Julko rushed to the window. "Look here!" he cried, pulling up a sheet that was tied to the sash; "the wretch has escaped us!"

"Impossible!" exclaimed Jacek; "the moat is at its deepest below; he would have broken every limb in the attempt."

"But the room has no other exit."

"It has, though! I know there is a secret closet joined to this room by an invisible door. In the countess's time it used to be connected with the back-stairs as well; but the fiend, thinking it a good hiding-place for his ill-gotten gains, had that communication walled up. I have not a doubt but that he is within, caught in his own trap and no escaping."

"Then have you an idea where to look for the invisible door?"

"Yes, in this wall," he pointed to the side where the bed stood. The broad surface was covered with an antique hanging which, quaintly enough, appeared fastened to the wall at regular intervals with large metal b.u.t.tons, forming a kind of pattern. "It is one of these b.u.t.tons that opens the door," said Jacek, "if you press down the right one. I have seen it done once; but there are many, and I cannot tell which it is."

"That is a pity," said Taras. He stood listening to the confused voices of the fighting without. "Well, if it is the only way, we must just find the b.u.t.ton. Are you sure the other outlet is walled up?"

"Quite certain."

"Then let us try."

Several minutes pa.s.sed while the men were thus endeavouring to discover the secret spring by which to move the hidden door, the din outside continuing unabated. Julko gave an exultant cry. He was kneeling on the bed, pa.s.sing his fingers over the b.u.t.tons in the centre when one of them yielding discovered a narrow c.h.i.n.k in the wall. The door as yet did not open, but its outline was plainly marked; it was evidently made fast from within.

Taras s.n.a.t.c.hed at Jemilian's axe, and, pushing aside the bed, he belaboured the wall with all his might. The door had begun to split, when a bolt was withdrawn inside, and before them stood the man they were seeking.

So sudden was his appearance that those without fell back a step. The "fiend" in person seemed utterly different from the name he bore--a well-grown, still youthful man, in the black robe of a priest, with a face both grave and handsome, and singularly dignified. The pallor of his countenance only showed his inward disturbance, his features wearing an expression of proudest self-confidence, and his eyes flashed imperiously.

"What is this?" he demanded. "Who are you?"

"I am Taras, the avenger," replied the latter, facing him. "Your time of reckoning has come! Your stronghold could not protect you; and neither the bold front of courage nor any cowardly whimpering will avail you now."

"Do I look like one given to whimpering?" said Sanecki, drawing himself up. "I am not a coward, though I endeavoured to hide from you. What else is there left for a peaceful priest when a horde of murderers enter his dwelling at night and he hears the tumult of bloodshed without? ... Your name and your purpose, Taras, are known to me, but I should scarcely have thought that you could think it needful to visit me. My conscience accuses me of nothing."

"Hold your lying tongue, you blackest of fiends," cried Jacek, beside himself, and he would have fallen upon the priest had not Taras held him back, continuing calmly: "Then you absolutely deny the charge of having committed the most inhuman wrongs against the villagers, robbing them of their property, and of the peace of their souls as well?"

"It is they who speak falsely in accusing me. I have taken from them what belongs to the Church and to me by right--not a whit beyond. In my case, Taras, you cannot be an avenger, but only a murderer, if your conscience will let you. But I think better of you, and I demand that you shall confront me with my accusers, with respectable, trustworthy men, not with a good-for-nothing like this Jacek, and I shall know how to answer them."

There appeared to be a lull in the fighting without--the firing had ceased, and the general tumult was hushed. But within the manor at that moment bloodshed was imminent. Jacek, quite unable to master his fury, had s.n.a.t.c.hed a pistol from his belt, and was pointing it at the priest.

"Stop, Jacek," commanded Taras, wresting the weapon from him. "And you, priest, utter no slander!... Say on Jacek in what has this man offended against you and yours. Say it with the fewest words, and speak the truth."

The peasant strove to conquer his feelings. "My father," he began, speaking with difficulty, "was obliged last year to remain on the upland pasture late into the spring. It was an unavoidable necessity, for the live stock was all we possessed. When he returned, this fiend of a man fined him a hundred florins, because he had been absent from confession and from the sacrament at Easter. It was our ruin, and brought us to beggary."

A voice was heard through the open window. "Hetman! hetman!" was the cry.

Taras stepped to the cas.e.m.e.nt.

"It is I, Milko, the hunter. The Jew sends you word that we have done our part. The Whitecoats have laid down their arms."

An exultant cry broke from the men, but Sanecki grew ashy. However, he recovered himself quickly. "It is a lie," he cried, reverting to the charge against him, "a false accusation. I call the Almighty to witness who is my only refuge in this hour of need, unless you deal righteous judgment!"

Again Jacek was making a plunge at him, and once more Taras interfered.

"I am ready to prove to you that I judge righteously," he said. "So far everything is against you save your own statement; the character you bear, the complaints which have reached me, and this man's solemn oath are your accusers. But you shall not be judged without being fully convicted. You shall choose for yourself two inhabitants of this village to speak for you."