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baton does not pass by our prince, all will go differently.”

“Tell Skshetuski the most important thing,” said Volodyovski, urging his horse nearer.

“True,” answered Zagloba, “I wanted to begin with that, but I couldn’t catch my breath till now. You know nothing, Yan, of what has happened since you came out⁠—that Bogun is a captive of the prince.”

Skshetuski and the princess were astonished at this unexpected news to such a degree that they could not speak a word. Helena merely raised her hands, a moment of silence followed; then she asked: “How? In what manner?”

“The finger of God is there,” answered Zagloba⁠—“nothing else but the finger of God. The negotiations were concluded, and we were just marching out of that pestilent Zbaraj. The prince hurried with the cavalry to the left wing to watch lest the horde should attack the army, for frequently they do not observe treaties; when suddenly a leader with three hundred horse rushed upon the cavalry of the prince.”

“Only Bogun could do such a thing,” said Skshetuski.

“It was he too. But it is not for Cossacks to fall upon soldiers of Zbaraj. Pan Michael surrounded and cut them to pieces; and Bogun, wounded by him a second time, went into captivity. He has no luck with Pan Michael, and he must be convinced of it now, since that was the third time he tried him; but he was only looking for death.”

“It appeared,” added Volodyovski, “that Bogun wished to reach Zbaraj from Valadinka; but the road was a long one. He failed; and when he learned that peace was concluded, his mind was confused from rage, and he cared for nothing.”

“Who draws the sword will perish by the sword, for such is the fickleness of fortune,” said Zagloba. “He is a mad Cossack, and the madder since he is desperate. A terrible uproar arose on his account between us and ruffiandom. We thought that it would come to war again, for the prince cried first of all that they had broken the treaty. Hmelnitski wanted to save Bogun; but the Khan was enraged at him, for, said he, ‘he has exposed my word and my oath to contempt.’ The Khan threatened Hmelnitski with war, and sent a messenger to the king with notice that Bogun was a private robber, and with a request that the prince would not hesitate, but treat Bogun as a bandit. It is probable too that it was important for the Khan to get the captives away in quiet. Of these the Tartars have taken so many that it will be possible to buy a man in Stamboul for two hobnails.”

“What did the prince do with Bogun?” inquired Skshetuski, unquietly.

“The prince was about to give orders to shave a stake for him at once, but he changed his mind and said: ‘I’ll give him to Skshetuski; let him do what he likes with him.’ Now the Cossack is in Tarnopol under ground; the barber is taking care of his head. My God, how many times the soul tried to go out of that man! Never have dogs torn the skin of any wolf as we have his. Pan Michael alone bit him three times. But he is a solid piece; though, to tell the truth, an unhappy man. But let the hangman light him! I have no longer any ill-feeling against him, except that he threatened me terribly and without cause; for I drank with him, associated with him as with an equal, till he raised his hand against you, my daughter. I might have finished him at Rozlogi. But I know of old that there is no thankfulness in the world, and there are few who give good for good. Let him⁠—” Here Zagloba began to nod his head. “And what will you do with him, Yan?” asked he. “The soldiers say you will make an outrider of him, for he is a showy fellow; but I cannot believe you would do that.”

“Surely I shall not. He is a soldier of eminent daring, and because he is unhappy is another reason that I should not disgrace him with any servile function.”

“May God forgive him everything!” said the princess.

“Amen!” answered Zagloba. “He prays to Death, as to a mother, to take him, and he surely would have found it if he had not been late at Zbaraj.”

All grew silent, meditating on the marvellous changes of fortune, till in the distance appeared Grabovo, where they stopped for their first refreshments. They found there a crowd of soldiers returning from Zborovo; Vitovski, the castellan of Sandomir, who was going with his regiment to meet his wife, and Marek Sobieski, with Pshiyemski and many nobles of the general militia who were returning home by that road. The castle at Grabovo had been burned, as well as all the other buildings; but as the day was wonderful⁠—warm and calm⁠—without seeking shelter for their heads, all disposed themselves in the oak-grove under the open sky. Large supplies of food and drink were brought, and the servants immediately set about preparing the evening meal. Pan Vitovski had tents pitched in the oak grove for the ladies and the dignitaries⁠—a real camp, as it were. The knights collected before the tents, wishing to see the princess and Pan Yan. Others spoke of the past war; those who had not been at Zbaraj asked the soldiers of the prince for the details of the siege; and it was noisy and joyous, especially since God had given so beautiful a day.

Zagloba, telling for the thousandth time how he had killed Burlai, took the lead among the nobles; Jendzian, among the servants who were preparing the meal. But the adroit young fellow seized the fitting moment, and drawing Skshetuski a little aside, bent obediently to his feet. “My master,” said he, “I should like to beg a favor.”

“It would be difficult for me to refuse you anything,” answered Skshetuski, “since through you everything that is best has come to pass.”

“I thought at once,”

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