Kmita laughed. “Let him avenge himself on you; for had it not come out that you knew the contents of the order and had you not opposed the advance, I should not have been sure of the trick, and should have given you the maiden straightway. Tell the starosta to appoint a keener pander than you.”
The calm tone with which Kmita said this assured the officer somewhat, at least on this point,—that death did not threaten either him or his troopers; therefore he breathed easily, and said,—
“And must we return with nothing to Zamost?”
“You will return with my letter, which will be written on the skin of each one of you.”
“Your grace—”
“Take them!” cried Kmita; and he seized the officer himself by the shoulder.
An uproar and struggle began around the carriage. The shouts of the Tartars deaden
