“That is impossible! A Pole!” answered Zagloba.
“Who?” inquired the prelate.
Silence followed. Then the prelate began to speak again: “If there were even one on whom all could agree! Where is there a man who would touch the heart of the knighthood at once, so that no one would dare to murmur against his election? There was one such, the greatest, who had rendered most service,—your worthy friend, O knight, who walked in glory as in sunlight. There was such a—”
“Prince Yeremi Vishnyevetski!” interrupted Zagloba.
“That is true. But he is in the grave.”
“His son lives,” replied Zagloba.
The vice-chancellor half closed his eyes, and sat some time in silence; all at once he raised his head, looked at Zagloba, and began to speak slowly: “I thank God for having inspired me with the idea of
