Zagloba, seizing the fat bottle of mead, sprang to the stove and cried out,--
“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, have you grown wild, man, or mad? Calm down! be mild! Stick your head in the water-pail! A hundred devils take you! Do you hear me?”
“Blood! blood!” howled Bogun.
“Have you lost your mind? Thrust your head in the water-pail, I tell you! You have blood already,--you have spilt innocent blood. That unfortunate youth is already breathless. The devil has snared you, or you are the devil yourself with something to boot. Come to your senses, the deuce take you, you son of a pagan!”
While crying out in this fashion, Zagloba pushed around to the other side of the table, and bending over Jendzian felt of his breast and put his hand to his mouth, from which blood was flo
