but he cannot compare in appearance with the Cossack, who
is as beautiful as a picture. Ha! they will grapple when
they meet, for both are champions of no common kind."

"Bogun, do you know Pan Skshetuski well?"asked
Zagloba, suddenly.

"No," answered the Cossack, briefly.

"You will have difficult work with him. I saw him
when he opened the door for himself with Chaplinski. He
is a Goliath in drinking as well as fighting."

Bogun made no reply, and again they were both buried in
their own thoughts and anxieties; following which, Zagloba
repeated from time to time: "So there is no help!"

Some hours passed. The sun had travelled far to the
west, toward Chigirin; from the east a cool breeze sprang
up. Zagloba took off his lynx-skin cap, raised his hand
to his sweat-moistened head, and repeated again: "So there
is no help!"

Bogun roused himself, as if from sleep. "What do you
say?" he inquired.

"I say that it will be dark directly. Is it far yet?"

"No."

In an hour it had grown dark in earnest, but they had
already reached a woody ravine. At the end of the ravine
a light was gloaming.

"That is Rozlogi," said Bogun, suddenly.

"Is it? Whew! there is something cold in that ravine."

Bogun reined in his horse. "Wait!" said he.

Zagloba looked at him. The eyes of the leader, which
had the peculiarity of shining in the night, were gloaming
at that moment like a pair of torches.

Both of them stood for a long time motionless at the
edge of the ravine. At length the snorting of horses was
heard in the distance. These were Bogun's Cossacks
coming on slowly from the depth of the forest.
The essaul approached for orders, which Bogun whis-
pered in his ear; then the Cossacks halted again.

"Forward!" said Bogun to Zagloba.

Soon the dark masses of buildings around the mansion,
the storehouses and well-sweeps stood in outline before
their eyes. It was quiet in the yard. The dogs did not
bark. A great golden moon shone above the buildings.
From the garden came the odor of the cherry and apple
blossoms. Everywhere it was quiet,----a night so wonder-
ful that in truth it lacked only the sound of a lyre some-