«Rekuts, Rekuts, it is I!» said Kmita.
The eyes of Rekuts opened for a moment; he recognized the face of his friend, and groaned in a low voice, «Yendrus--a priest--»
«Who killed you?» cried Kmita, seizing himself by the hair.
«Bu-try-my-» (The Butryms), answered he, in a voice so low that it was barely audible. Then he stretched himself, grew stiff, his open eyes became fixed, and he died.
Kmita went in silence to the table, put the tallow lamp upon it, sat down in an armchair, and began to pass his hands over his face like a man who waking from sleep does not know yet whether he is awake or still sees dream figures before his eyes. Then he looked again on the bodies lying in the darkness. Cold sweat came out on his forehead, the hair rose on his head, and suddenly he shouted so terri
