"You are mistaken," said he, after a while. "I do not
want blood, nor am I working for reputation, but it would
not be proper to leave my comrades in a difficult struggle in
which the whole regiment must engage, nemine excepto. In
this is involved knightly honor, a sacred thing. As to the
war it will undoubtedly drag on, for the rabble has grown
too great; but if Hmelnitski comes to the aid of Krivonos,
there will be an intermission. To-morrow Krivonos will
either fight or he will not. If he does, with God's aid
he will receive dire punishment, and we must go to a
quiet place to draw breath. During these two months
we neither sleep nor eat, we only fight and fight; day
and night we have nothing over our heads, exposed to all
the attacks of the elements. The prince is a great leader,
but prudent. He does not rush on Hmelnitski with a few
thousand men against legions. I know also that he will go
to Zbaraj, recruit there, get new soldiers, -- nobles from the
whole Commonwealth will hurry to him, -- and then we shall
move to a general campaign. To-morrow will be the last
day of work, and after to-morrow I shall be able to accom-
pany you to Bar with a clean heart. And I will add, to
pacify you, that Bogun can in no wise come here to-morrow
and take part in the battle; and even if he should I hope
that his peasant star will pale, not only before that of the
prince, but before my own."

"He is an incarnate Beelzebub. I have told you that I
dislike a throng; but he is worse than a throng, though I
repeat it is not so much from fear as from an unconquerable
aversion I have for the man. But no more of this. To-
morrow comes the tanning of the peasants' backs, and then
to Bar. Oh, those beautiful eyes will laugh at the sight of
you, and that face will blush! I tell you, even I feel lonely
without her, for I love her as a father. And no wonder.
I have no legitimate children; my fortune is far away;
for it is in Turkey, where my scoundrelly agents steal
it all; and I live as an orphan in the world, and in my
old age I shall have to go and live with Podbipienta at
Myshekishki."

"Oh, no; don't let your head ache over that! You have
done something for us; we cannot be too thankful to you."

Further conversation was interrupted by some officer who
passing along inquired: "Who stands there?"

"Vershul!" exclaimed Skshetuski, recognizing him by
his voice. "Are you from the scouting-party?"