"What are you muttering there, brother?" asked the
peasant.

"Oh, nothing! I am praying for your health. Amen,
amen!"

"Here is my cottage."

"Glory be to God!"

"For the ages of ages!"

"I beg you to eat my bread and salt."

"God will reward you."

A little later the minstrel had strengthened himself
powerfully with mutton and a good portion of mead. Next
morning early, he moved on with his attendant lad, in a
comfortable telega, toward Zolotonosha, escorted by a num-
her of mounted peasants armed with pikes and scythes.
They went through Kovraiets, Chernobai, and Krapivna.
The wayfarers saw that everything was seething; the peas-
ants were arming at all points, the forges were working
from morning till night, and only the terrible name and
power of Prince Yeremi still restrained the bloody out-
burst. West of the Dnieper the tempest was let loose in
all its fury. News of the defeat at Korsun had spread
over all Russia with the speed of lightning, and every
living soul was rushing forth.