See us now at the headquarters of the Hetman or chief of the Registered Cossacks, by name Doroshenko. These Registered Cossacks are they whose names are entered in the book as adherents of the King of Poland: they are thus distinguished from those others who espouse the cause of the Tsar of Russia. It was Mazeppa who so quickly found a new career for both of us, and that by his amazing assurance; for he rode straight to the Court of the Hetman (who holds his head, be it remembered, as high as the Polish King himself, though in a measure his vassal), and demanded employment, stating our names and the places we came from, but preserving silence—be sure—upon the reason for our leaving home.

‘Which is Chelminsky?’ asked the Hetman, and learning that it was I, ‘What, the son of our good captain, under Hmelnisky?’ he asked with interest.

I blushed, and said that so it was.

‘Then I say that none have a better right to demand service among us here,’ said he, taking me by the hand. ‘You shall find a good friend in me, my man,’ he added kindly, ‘and if you are like your father we shall be glad of you indeed! I do not know your name, Pan Mazeppa, but you seem to be one who goes with his eyes open.’

‘You will find that Mazeppa’s eyes never shut, Hetman,’ I said; ‘be wise and take him into your special service. He can do many things besides ride and use a sword, in which common accomplishments he excels.’

‘Is he a gramatny?’ asked the Hetman. ‘Can he write and read?’

‘I am as much clerk as soldier,’ said Mazeppa, ‘and I know figures.’

‘Come, then, that falls in well for both of us,’ said the Hetman, ‘for my peesar (secretary) died but a week since, and all these fellows—though they are devils to fight and can write well with their swords upon the body of an enemy—can wield a pen no more than ply a needle. You shall be tried, sir, as peesar, and you, Chelminsky, shall remain soldier.’

Thus Mazeppa first received employment in the country of which he was destined to be the greatest of all, by virtue of his friendship with myself—a matter which has given me cause for many reflections and for some laughter. I to have been Mazeppa’s godfather in Cossack-land! and he to have owed his first advancement to me! Lord! how oddly things happen in this world.

As young men and leaders, for so we soon became, we did well among our equals at the Hetman’s Court, and presently stood high in Doroshenko’s favour.

With the ladies Mazeppa was ever popular: fickle and inconstant as water was he, yet having some quality of attractiveness which drew female hearts to him in spite of the fate which—it was to be seen—would surely overtake those who trusted him. It may be that women did not take him seriously, as at this time he certainly did not take them. At any rate, he ever stood well with them. With the men he was not so popular, though, for some reason, they seldom quarrelled with him. When they did so they fared ill, for if it came to swords Mazeppa was as skilful as any, and rarely received so liberally as he gave; while if matters went before the Hetman, then Mazeppa’s tongue easily gained him the victory, however weak his cause, for in craftiness and cleverness he was the superior of all, and it so happened that those who offended him came invariably to ill either immediately or soon, and either upon one plea or another, so that men began to fear Mazeppa.

Occasionally we differed, he and I; but our quarrels were not serious, for, though I began to know Mazeppa from this time somewhat better than I had known him heretofore, or cared to show even now, yet I was fond of him as my first friend, and he of me.

When Mazeppa was chosen, therefore, as ambassador or secret envoy of the Hetman to the Turk in Constantinople, I was chosen by Mazeppa to accompany him. We bore letters from the Hetman, who wrote, at Ian Casimir’s request, suggesting a combined movement of Turk, Pole and Cossack against the Russian Tsar, who grew aggressive.

But it happened that we never reached Constantinople, for before we had been many days travelling we were fallen upon, at evening, by a body of Russian Cossacks, who held us prisoners until we should have been examined by their captain in the morning.

During the night, when our guards slept, Mazeppa nudged me.

‘Wake, Chelminsky,’ he said, ‘and eat this.’

‘I am not hungry,’ I replied wearily, ‘let me sleep.’

‘Eat, fool, and talk to-morrow,’ he said angrily, holding something out to me. I took it: it was several small scraps of paper.

‘What is this jest?’ I asked. ‘This is not the time for fooling, but for sleeping.’

‘It is no jest; this is part of the Hetman’s letter, which was concealed in my boot. I have eaten much of it and can swallow no more; eat your share: it must all go, and quickly.’

I swallowed a scrap or two of paper and choked. Mazeppa snatched the rest of the torn letter and thrust it into his long boot. Two soldiers awoke. Mazeppa clapped me upon the back.

‘He chokes for want of water!’ he said. ‘Give us a drink, friend, for the love of Heaven. We are all Cossacks, though we swear by different overlords!’

They gave us water, and Mazeppa drank also. Afterwards, when the fellows were asleep again, I tried to swallow more pieces of the letter, but made but a poor job of it. Mazeppa ate some of it, contriving to swallow better than I had done. I hid the rest in my boot, intending to finish it before daylight, and thought I had done so; but when we were carefully examined at morning for letters or despatches, one small scrap was found in my boot, and upon this scrap were treasonable words which betrayed our mission.

‘Oho!’ said the Captain; ‘so you are envoys to the Turk? We have made our capture, men! Come, you young gamecocks,’—to us—‘where is the rest of the letter?’

‘Down our throats, most of it,’ said Mazeppa, laughing; ‘washed down by the water which you kindly provided us withal.’

‘Come, reveal: what was in this letter?’ said the man. ‘You had better disclose, or, who knows? we may rip you up to find the pieces. Which of you swallowed the letter? This one, I’ll be sworn, since he is so silent, and seeing, too, that a scrap was found in his boot.’ The Captain nodded his head at me.

Mazeppa did not contradict. I have since thought that if it had come to ripping us open in order to secure the letter, I should have been the first and perhaps the only one to suffer. At that time I did not suspect that Mazeppa would have allowed me to be the victim; the suspicion came long afterwards, when I knew more of the man’s heart.

The fellows consulted, however, and determined to leave us to digest the letter, whatever it might be.

‘It seems a serious matter,’ said the Captain; ‘and you shall be taken to the Tsar’s Court at Moscow. They have ways there of getting men to reveal what it is desirable to know.’

‘Take us to the devil if you will,’ laughed Mazeppa. ‘The Tsar shall know just as much or just as little as we—who know nothing—can tell him. It is easier to eat a sealed letter than to read it.’

‘It is easiest of all to tell what was in it, when the knout is at the back!’ laughed the Captain. ‘We shall see what will happen, Mr. Boastful.’

And so we were actually carried to Moscow to the Court of the Tsar, and since we were not allowed to ride together, nor to speak a word to one another on the way, I did not know what Mazeppa intended to do, or whether he would reveal or conceal what he knew of the vanished letter, or the object of our mission.

As for me I hoped, and prayed also, that I should be found courageous in the time of trial, and that I should not be forced to betray our trust under the anguish of the knout, which tears the flesh like the claws of a bear.

But in this matter, as in every position of difficulty, Mazeppa, born diplomatist and leader of men, found a way to escape—though not the most honourable. Since this is an honest record, however, and not a story drawn up for my own glorification or Mazeppa’s, I must admit that I was so greatly relieved and delighted by our unhoped-for escape from the knout or other torture, that I thought less of the end attained than of the means employed to attain it!

We were confined separately in Moscow, and I was surprised one day when—together with the jailor—Mazeppa entered my chamber.

‘We are free, Chelminsky,’ he said. ‘Come forth—we are in the Tsar’s favour.’

‘But how—how and why—we who were his arch enemies, and caught in the act of working for his disadvantage!’ I cried, hastening out of my captivity, however, and following him quickly from the house as I spoke.

‘The Tsar Alexis is the strong man,’ said Mazeppa. ‘I was brought before him and spoke with him, and I have discerned that it is so. From this time we are no longer registered vassals of the Pole: we are Russians, my friend, and shall henceforward offer our allegiance to the Tsar.’

‘Oh, Mazeppa!’ I exclaimed; ‘have you turned traitor and betrayed our own kith?’

‘Bah! we are all Cossacks: those are not more our kith than these; your own father fought the Poles—why not you?’

‘That was for independence, not for the Tsar!’ I groaned.

‘Well,’ said Mazeppa, somewhat disdainfully, ‘then refuse to be the Tsar’s man. Go back and sit in your prison for a few years, if you prefer it, or in a worse place; taste the knout and die of weariness of your own society and the devil’s!’