After our dismissal from the Polish Court we returned for a while to our own homes, where we should have seen little of one another but for the circumstance that we happened to fall in love—if the mild passion of a youth of seventeen can be called by that name—with the same lady, an attractive person of mature age, in comparison with our own, and withal the wife of another, a neighbour, Falbofsky.

It became our delight—an unworthy pastime, indeed—to compete for the favour of this lady, and this foolish competition was the first beginning of the state of constant rivalry in which we two have since passed our lives.

Probably, but for the desire to outdo one another, neither of us would have thought seriously of the matter. I am sure, looking back through the years that have passed, that I was never in love with Falbofsky’s wife, and Mazeppa has many times assured me that his attentions to the lady were prompted by that necessity for some kind of amusement or pastime which every idle youth must experience. But though both denied afterwards that love impelled us to the lady’s side, I think we were both at the time seriously determined to get the better of one another in her affections; and I remember that each boasted continually of the progress and success of his pursuit of the fair one, who smiled, I dare say, impartially upon both of us, pleased with the attentions of each, though not disposed to reward either with any but the cheapest favours.

The matter ended somewhat abruptly, and indeed seriously enough for all parties concerned.

Falbofsky was a Polish noble. We had seen him occasionally at the King’s Court, where, being our senior, he had taken but little notice of us. We did not like him, and our visits to his wife were generally undertaken when we knew that he was away from home, at Court or elsewhere.

The lady would inform us whenever these absences were to take place, when Mazeppa or I would be sure to appear, and sometimes both of us together, in order to lighten for her the creeping hours of separation from her husband.

I know not whether someone played us false, some messenger or servant at Falbofsky’s house, but it is certain that one day Falbofsky got wind of our habit of profiting by his absence, for he played us a pretty trick.

We each received, as usual, intimation that Madame would receive visitors upon a certain day and at a certain hour, and as usual, too, both Mazeppa and I strained every nerve to get the better of one another by arriving first, in order to enjoy the society of the lady for awhile before the other should come to destroy the delights of undisturbed possession. On this occasion I had the advantage of Mazeppa, it appeared, being half an hour in advance of my rival, a fact which I discovered by falling first into the ambush prepared for us by the angry husband, who, having smelt a rat or having received warning, lay in wait for us at a lonely spot in the forest, accompanied by half a dozen stout retainers.

A couple of these pounced out from their hiding-place before I had realised that I was attacked, and seized my reins.

I imagined that I had to do with robbers, and hit out so lustily with my fist that one of my fellows dropped the bridle and fell. But others rushed out and pulled me from the saddle. My horse galloped away, leaving me in their hands. Then I realised that I had to do with Falbofsky.

‘Gag him,’ he said, ‘and tie him to a tree meanwhile, lest he make a noise and warn the other rascal.’

‘So Mazeppa is still expected,’ I thought. It would be like his cunning, however, if he should have obtained information of this ambush and had stayed away, or maybe gone round by a longer road. Mazeppa was ever the most subtle of mortal men—a very fox, indeed.

‘Falbofsky, let us fight it out like men,’ I said. He took no notice of my words.

‘Do you hear?’ he repeated. ‘Gag him, and tie him to a tree; his fool of a horse has run away, or——’

I knew not what he was going to say, though, knowing what I now know, I have no doubt he intended to treat me as he presently treated Mazeppa. Thanks to my good horse, who was cleverer than I, and escaped, he was unable to have his will. I interrupted him.

‘Are you afraid to cross swords, Falbofsky? I will fight you for your wife, come!’

He took no more notice of this foolish speech than of the other.

‘Gag him quickly, fools!’ he said, stamping his foot; ‘if he shows fight tap him, one of you, on the head.’

Then four of them fell upon me, and in spite of my struggling overbore me and fastened a band tightly about my mouth. Then they tied me to a tree, and sat about waiting and watching, as they had waited and watched for me.

Presently came the sound of galloping hoofs. Mazeppa rode quickly, anxious, like me, to obtain the lady’s ear before his rival should have arrived.

‘He comes,’ said Falbofsky; ‘be ready all, and this time secure the horse, or by thunder you shall be sorry, every one of you!’

Nearer came Mazeppa: the galloping hoofs approached very close, they were almost upon us. Oh, that I could cry out and warn him! but I was as dumb as the dead.

‘Now!’ whispered Falbofsky, ‘two, and then immediately other two!’

At the word out darted a pair of fellows and seized Mazeppa’s reins as they had seized mine. The horse reared up in sudden terror. Mazeppa struck at his assailants, but missed; he tried to draw his sword, but a second pair of fellows had pinned his arms and quickly pulled him from the saddle.

Mazeppa lay and struggled, moving this way and that with a heap of men atop of him. Now he showed a head, now an arm, and all the while he cursed and threatened; but the fight was unequal—as I knew to my cost—and presently he was exhausted and lay still.

All the while he had not seen me, nor yet Falbofsky, so that he did not yet understand how matters stood.

‘If it is a matter of ransom,’ he panted, and then paused open-mouthed, for his eyes fell upon me. His hand stole towards his sword hilt, but they had deprived him of the weapon. Then he recognised Falbofsky.

‘Oh, is it so then?’ he said. ‘What is the meaning of this outrage, Falbofsky? Have you and your crew turned highway robbers?’

‘Bind his wrists behind his back,’ said Falbofsky, ignoring Mazeppa’s words. His men obeyed, Mazeppa resisting, but uselessly.

‘Now,’ continued Falbofsky, ‘strip him; leave him not a vestige of his garments; strip the horse also of his saddle and cloth. Take one of the ropes you have brought and tie the fool tightly to the horse’s back. Lay him along, so, and pass the rope round the middle of both. Now remove the bridle, and let them go. Lord, what a thin poor creature thou art, Mazeppa! The folks in the villages will mistake thy lean naked body for a pine-stem!’

Mazeppa was too dazed to reply, he seemed bereft of speech. The men had meanwhile slipped the bridle from his horse’s neck. One of them gave a shout to startle the animal, and another, snatching a stick, smote it violently upon the quarters. Away dashed the frightened creature.

For a moment or two the fleeting hoof-steps were audible as it dashed, mad with surprise and terror, through the forest: a wild curse or shriek from the throat of Mazeppa came back faintly from the distance, then horse and man had disappeared from sight and sound.

Now came my turn.

‘Strip him, too,’ said Falbofsky, ‘and leave him gagged in the road.’

If looks could kill, mine would, I think, have slain my enemy at that moment, but he avoided my gaze and took no further notice of me. He mounted a horse which was brought him from a distance, where it had remained in hiding, and rode away.

Me they stripped of all but a thin shirt. He whom I had knocked down when he held my bridle came up when his master had gone, and belaboured me with a stick, adding many curses. The rest laughed and applauded, making insulting remarks and treating me roughly and brutally as they dragged me into the road, gagged and naked, and there left me.

A peasant found me an hour later as he passed with his cart of hay. He released me, covered me with a cloth, and drove me to my house. Here I lost little time. Fortunately, I had succeeded in gaining the house unseen, for it was the dinner hour and the servants were busy with their meal. I dressed myself quickly, took my sword, mounted my best horse, and dashed away towards the Falbofsky mansion, distant but two leagues from our own.

My horse knew the road well, for he had borne me many times by the same route. But love had never caused me to drive him so wildly forward as did now the madness of hate and the desire for revenge. My madness seemed to infect him. His hoofs spurned the earth as we flew through air. Within half an hour I stood in the presence of Falbofsky, who sat with his wife talking and laughing, and I doubt not telling her the story of how he had served the two fools who had loved to hang at her apron strings.

She cried out when she saw me. She was accustomed to see me look differently.

‘Chelminsky!’ she exclaimed in terror; ‘your eyes are full of murder.’

‘My heart also,’ I said. ‘Draw, Falbofsky. This time you must fight, whether you will or no!’

‘Oh, I am ready,’ he laughed, drawing his weapon, ‘if you must needs have another lesson!’

We crossed swords, and I was conscious of our fair Helen rushing from the room screaming for help. ‘I must make haste,’ I thought, ‘and get this matter finished before they come to interrupt.’ We began to fight cautiously.

‘While yet you have hearing and understanding,’ I said, as our swords touched, ‘let me tell you that your wife is innocent of all sin. I would not have you die suspecting her falsely.’

‘Die!’ he said with an oath. ‘Death will not come at your call, my friend; as for my wife, she knows a man from a child as well as I. You have been punished enough for the wrong you have done. Will you go home?’

For answer I fell upon him with vigour. This last insult cut me deeply, wounding my vanity. I would show him what manner of child I was. If I might not wound the heart of a woman, I could at least cut to pieces any man who presumed to offend me!

Falbofsky was, I could see, surprised and alarmed by my skill with the sword. He had begun the fight leisurely, as one reserving his strength. Soon he was fencing with all his art, and fencing well. But this day I would take no denying, and within a few minutes I had him disarmed and at mercy. I think I should have given him the point without pity, but that his fair wife ran shrieking into the room at the moment, followed by servants, and implored me to spare him.

‘Chelminsky, do not slay,’ she cried. ‘Chelminsky, my friend! See, he is wounded already!’

I had not observed this. It was true, however; his sword-arm was soaked with blood.

‘Well, I will spare him,’ I said, ‘since you ask me!’ Whereupon I stalked from the room very proudly and happily, for I felt my honour had been amply vindicated.