Mazeppa had wasted no time. I gave him credit for the cunning of a fox, but no man could have expected that he would have done so much for himself in so short a while.

When I returned to Batourin I found that the matter of a succession to the Hetmanate was already settled, and the Hetman himself away in Moscow.

‘And the Hetman is Mazeppa?’ I asked, sick and faint with disappointment.

‘Who but he?’ said my informant; ‘there was little talk of any other. It was two weeks ago. The order for deposal of Samoilovitch came from Moscow, and was read out in full assembly by Mazeppa himself, amid groans, for the orders stated that Samoilovitch had made Lord knows what dismal blunders with our poor lances, and had been fooled both this way and that by the Khan. Now Mazeppa had well packed the meeting both with Russians from Moscow and his own people here, and when, presently, he asked whom the assembly would like to nominate as the new Hetman, subject to the approval of the Russian Tsars and Regent, someone called out “Mazeppa.” Then another called his name, and then a hundred more. A few cried “Chelminsky” and “Panief” and other names, but the Mazeppas had the day by scores to one; and when the Russian delegate announced that this was well, since he had the authority of the Regent to nominate, in her name, this same Mazeppa, he was then and there elected, and set out presently for Moscow to do homage on his promotion.’

In any case, I comforted myself, I should not have succeeded at present, not until Peter should have asserted himself. My hopes must be fixed upon that time: when Peter ousted the Regent, I should do the same by Mazeppa.

Meanwhile, what devilry did he in Moscow? For it had come to this, that I feared to turn my back upon this fox when he chanced to be within reach of any fowl-yard of mine; and though he had ridiculed any further interest in Vera, I was anxious lest he should have lied to me.

Nevertheless, it was necessary to possess myself in patience, for Mazeppa’s absence might prove my opportunity to work out my own destiny at Batourin, and I spent my time in diligently making a party for myself, against the day of my advancement and his fall.

Mazeppa, I found, was not popular. There were hundreds who had grievances against him, and most of these promised that if it should come to another election Chelminsky’s name should be shouted as loud as Mazeppa’s, or louder.

By the time Mazeppa returned I flattered myself that I had done well for my cause. At any rate, I had out-foxed this cunning one who had stolen a march upon me in my absence. He came, suspecting nothing, and meanwhile I had prepared a powder mine beneath his feet, which should one day explode and bring him toppling from the seat upon which I would sit.

Mazeppa was friendly. I was to occupy no less exalted a position under him than I had enjoyed under Samoilovitch—I should find Mazeppa the Hetman, said he, no less my firm friend than Mazeppa the secretary.

‘And a securer friendship that,’ he laughed, ‘be sure, than some of thine in Moscow!’

‘What mean you by that?’ I asked, flushing.

‘Of all friends, beware of one especially,’ he said. ‘One who would have made thee Hetman; who would have saved a certain wench for thee, should other suitors claim her in thy absence; he who would—many folks said—presently show himself the young lion awake, and would lustily roar and go forth to kill for himself.’

‘Go on,’ I said hastily, ‘and explain how and in what has this friendship failed me?’

‘In three ways,’ he laughed. ‘Nay, look not so grim: blame me not, for how am I in fault? Did I believe in this young lion of thine? My faith was in the Regent and her Galitsin; said I not so from the first? And see how well my friends have served me! But this young Peter of thine——’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘this Peter?’

‘Where is thy nomination as Hetman? Where is any power that he has? He is still a cub, and looks not like roaring; he whines for others to bring him his food; he gambols near his parent-nest, and thinks not of going forth to kill.’

‘His day will come,’ I said, ‘though it has not yet dawned. As for the Hetmanate, your friends have gained it for you, and it is yours. Do I deny or dispute it? Keep it, Mazeppa, in the Lord’s name.’

‘That I shall do with all my heart, and my good friends—such as thyself—shall help me so to do. I know whom I may trust, Chelminsky; we are old friends, thou and I.’

‘So let us remain,’ said I, for I would play the fox with this fox, and I did my utmost to seem very sincere in my friendship. ‘The wise man, when he has lost the game, recognises that the luck is against him, and so do I! But what is this you hint as to the Tsar Peter having failed,’ I added, as indifferently as I could, ‘in his promise to protect a certain lady on my behalf?’

‘I dare not tell you,’ said Mazeppa, ‘lest you fly out upon me and swear I lie to you for jealousy.’

‘Bah!’ I said, ‘I am learning to follow your philosophy, that women are unworthy of a sigh.’

‘Oh, if that be so, I wish you joy of your wisdom!’ he said, laughing, ‘and I will tell you all. The Tsar Peter—well, he is young enough to think differently of such things. He will marry before many months, and meanwhile——’

‘Yes, meanwhile he teaches himself the art of love-making in advance,’ I said, finishing his sentence when he paused. ‘What a tattered thing will be the heart of Vera as I shall receive it!’

‘Be not so sure even of a tattered remnant!’ he laughed; ‘young Peter is a more dangerous rival than his brother Ivan!’

‘Does all this mean,’ said I, ‘that Mazeppa has renewed his suit of late, and with no more success than of old?’

‘What, I?’ he exclaimed, flushing nevertheless, in spite of his bravado. ‘No, Chelminsky; I have had sterner work to do in Moscow than love-making, though indeed there was good reason to believe that if I had raised a finger a certain bird would have sung!’

‘What, both for Mazeppa and for Peter?’ cried I, affecting to be vastly amused. ‘By the saints, a pretty warbler is this that I have fed in my bosom, that sings to all comers! Which was the favoured, Mazeppa, thou or Tsar Peter?’

‘I will tell thee truth,’ said Mazeppa: ‘the Tsar Peter being seriously in love, and I, as thou knowest, no more than toying with passion, he desired to have the way clear for himself; therefore I acted the dutiful vassal and left his Highness a straight course.’

‘So that I, for my part, have lost both patron and mistress?’ said I, still affecting indifference, though actually I was near boiling over with rage; ‘for it seems you would have me understand that whether Peter wooed or Mazeppa, at any rate there was no remembrance of me.’

‘Chelminsky, the new-found philosopher, will not weep, I wager, even though so it be!’ he said; ‘nor yet will he blame the fair Vera, who takes her wooing where she finds it.’

‘Then, I say,’ cried I, firing up at last, ‘that Mazeppa is a liar, Hetman or no Hetman—as great a liar as Hetman as he has been from the beginning and will be to the end. Shall I beat thee with a stick now, Hetman Mazeppa, or spit thee with a sword presently before witnesses? Thou owest me a drubbing for the wedding I gave thee with Olga, and another for spoiling thy villainy with Vera. Come, I am ready for it now, and at the same time thou shalt answer to me for many lies, and for a certain knouting which I did not get—no thanks to thee!’

‘Oh, if thou must have it so, meet me in the Krasinsky Wood at noon to-morrow,’ he said, keeping cool while I raved. ‘Go cautiously and with thy second only, for understand, as Hetman I must not be seen duelling with my inferior. I meet thee as a favour, Chelminsky.’

‘Well, do not play the coward and stay away,’ I raved, ‘for Hetman or no Hetman, and favour or no favour, I will make thee eat thy lies, fox Mazeppa, and that I swear!’

‘If you will fight, fight you shall,’ he replied, ‘and let the best man win!’

I ought to have felt some suspicion at this saying, for Mazeppa well knew that he was not my match with the sword or rapier, but all that buzzed in my head at this time—poor fool that I was—was the desire to force his lies down his throat, and to make him suffer for his easy triumph in the matter of the Hetmanate. Why, thought I, if I should kill him to-morrow there must be another Hetman, and that shall surely be I! But the greatest offence of all was the manner of his talk about Vera.

And full of this thought I went among my friends that night, bidding them be prepared for a sudden new election, and one of them, young Stanislaus Bedinsky, I chose to be my second.