"Our merciful lord gave up the spirit in Merech a week
before the catastrophe at Korsun."

"God in his mercy did not permit him to live to such
times!" said the prince; then seizing himself by the head,
he continued: "Awful times have come upon the Common-
wealth! Convocations and elections, -- an interregnum,
dissensions, and foreign intrigues, -- now, when the whole
people should become a single sword in a single hand. God
surely has turned away his face from us, and in his anger
intends to punish us for our sins. Only King Vladislav
himself could extinguish these conflagrations; for there
was a wonderful affection for him among the Cossacks, and
besides, he was a military man."

At this time a number of officers -- among them Zats-
vilikhovski, Skshetuski, Baranovski, Vurtsel, Makhnitski,
and Polyanovski -- approached the prince, who said: "Gen-
tlemen, the king is dead!"

Their heads were uncovered as if by command. Their
faces grew serious. Such unexpected news deprived all of
speech. Only after a while came an expression of universal
sorrow.

"May God grant him eternal rest!" said the prince.

"And eternal light shine upon him!"

Soon after the priest Mukhovetski intoned "Dies Irae;"
and amidst those forests and that smoke an unspeakable
sorrow seized their hearts and souls. It seemed to all as if
some expected rescue had failed; as if they were standing
alone in the world, in presence of some terrible enemy, and
they had no one against him except their prince. So then
all eyes turned to him, and a new bond was formed between
Vishnyevetski and his men.

That evening the prince spoke to Zatsvilikhovski in a
voice that was heard by all, --

"We need a warrior king, so that if God grants us to
give our votes at an election, we will give them for Prince
Karl, who has more of the military genius than Kazimir."

"Vivat Carolus rex!" shouted the officers.

"Vivat!" repeated the hussars, and after them the whole
army.

The prince voevoda had no thought, indeed, that those
shouts raised east of the Dnieper, in the gloomy forests of
Chernigoff, would reach Warsaw, and wrest from his grasp
the baton of Grand Hetman of the Crown.