to learn the names of the leaders, for they conceal them to save their own families and property from Swedish vengeance. Of the army that regiment rose first which is commanded by Pan Voynillovich."
"Gabryel? He is my relative, though I do not know him."
"A genuine soldier. He is the man who rubbed out Pratski's party, which was serving the Swedes, and shot Pratski himself; but now he has gone to the rough mountains beyond Cracow; there he cut up a Swedish division, and secured the mountaineers from oppression."
"Are the mountaineers fighting with the Swedes already?"
"They were the first to rise; but as they are stupid peasants, they wanted to rescue Cracow straightway with axes. General Douglas scattered them, for they knew nothing of the level country; but of the parties sent to pursue them in the mountains, not a man has returned. Pan Voynillovich has helped those peasants, and now has gone himself to the marshal at Lyubovlya, and joined his forces."
"Is Pan Lyubomirski, the marshal, opposed to the Swedes?"
"Reports disagreed. They said that he favored this side and that; but when men began to mount their horses throughout the whole country he went against the Swedes. He is a powerful man, and can do them a great deal of harm. He alone might war with the King of Sweden. People say too that before spring there will not be one Swede in the Commonwealth."
"God grant that!"
"How can it be otherwise, your grace, since for the siege of Chenstohova all are enraged against them? The army is rising, the nobles are fighting already wherever they can, the peasants are collecting in crowds, and besides, the Tartars are marching; the Khan, who defeated Hmelnitski and the Cossacks, and promised to destroy them completely unless they would march against the Swedes, is coming in person."
"But the Swedes have still much support among magnates and nobles?"
"Only those take their part who must, and even they are merely waiting for a chance. The prince voevoda of Vilna is the only man who has joined them sincerely, and that act has turned out ill for him."
Kmita stopped his horse, and at the same time caught his side, for terrible pain had shot through him.
"In God's name!" cried he, suppressing a groan, "tell me what is taking place with Radzivill. Is he all the time in Kyedani?"
"O Ivory Gate!" said the old man; "I know as much as people say, and God knows what they do not say. Some report that the prince voevoda is living no longer; others that he is still defending himself against Pan Sapyeha, but is barely breathing. It is likely that they are struggling with each other in Podlyasye, and that Pan Sapyeha has the upper hand, for the Swedes could not save the prince voevoda. Now they say that, besieged in Tykotsin by Sapyeha, it is all over with him."
"Praise be to God! The honest are conquering traitors! Praise be to God! Praise be to God!"
Kyemlich looked from under his brows at Kmita, and knew not himself what to think, for it was known in the whole Commonwealth that if Radzivill had triumphed in the beginning over his own troops and the nobles who did not wish Swedish rule, it happened, mainly, thanks to Kmita and his men. But old Kyemlich did not let that thought be known to his colonel, and rode farther in silence.
"But what has happened to Prince Boguslav?" asked Pan Andrei, at last.
"I have heard nothing of him, your grace," answered Kyemlich. "Maybe he is in Tykotsin, and maybe with the elector. War is there at present, and the King of Sweden has gone to Prussia; but we meanwhile are waiting for our own king. God give him! for let him only show himself, all to a man will rise, and the troops will leave the Swedes straightway."
"Is that certain?"
"Your grace, I know only what those soldiers said who had to be with the Swedes at Chenstohova. They are very fine cavalry, some thousands strong, under Zbrojek, Kalinski, and other colonels. I may tell your grace that no man serves there of his own will, except Kuklinovski's ravagers; they wanted to get the treasures of Yasna Gora. But all honorable soldiers did nothing but lament, and one quicker than another complained: 'We have enough of this Jew's service! Only let our king put a foot over the boundary, we will turn our sabres at once on the Swedes; but while he is not here, how can we begin, whither can we go?' So they complain; and in the other regiments which are under the hetmans it is still worse. This I know certainly, for deputations came from them to Pan Zbrojek with arguments, and they had secret talks there at night; this Miller did not know, though he felt that there was evil about him."
"But is the prince voevoda of Vilna besieged in Tykotsin?" asked Pan Andrei.
Kyemlich looked again unquietly on Kmita, for he thought that surely a fever was seizing him if he asked to have the same information repeated; still he answered, —
"Besieged by Pan Sapyeha."
"Just are Thy judgments, God!" said Kmita. "He who might compare in power with kings! Has no one remained with him?"
"In Tykotsin there is a Swedish garrison. But with the prince only some of his trustiest attendants have remained."
Kmita's breast was filled with delight. He had feared the vengeance of the terrible magnate on Olenka, and though it seemed to him that he had prevented that vengeance with his threats, still he was tormented by the thought that it would be better and safer for Olenka and all the Billeviches to live in a lion's den than in Kyedani, under the hand of the prince, who never forgave any man. But now when he had fallen his opponents must triumph by the event; now when he was deprived of power and significance, when he was lord of only one poor castle, in which he defended his own life and freedom, he could not think of vengeance; his hand had ceased to weigh on his enemies.
"Praise be to God! praise be to God!" repeated Kmita.
He had his head so filled with the change in Radzivill's fortunes, so occupied with that which had happened during his stay in Chenstohova, and with the question where was she whom his heart loved, and what had become of her, that a third time he asked Kyemlich: "You say that the prince is broken?"
"Broken completely," answered the old man. "But are you not sick?"
"My side is burned. That is nothing!" answered Kmita.
Again they rode on in silence. The tired horses lessened their speed by degrees, till at last they were going at a walk. That monotonous movement lulled to sleep Pan Andrei, who was mortally wearied, and he slept long, nodding in the saddle. He was roused only by the white light of day. He looked around with amazement, for in the first moment it seemed to him that everything through which he had passed in that night was merely a dream; at last he inquired, —
"Is that you, Kyemlich? Are we riding from Chenstohova?"
"Of course, your grace."
"But where are we?"
"Oho, in Silesia already. Here the Swedes will not get us."
"That is well!" said Kmita, coming to his senses completely. "But where is our gracious king living?"
"At Glogov."
"We will go there then to bow down to our lord, and offer him service. But listen, old man, to me."
"I am listening, your grace."
Kmita fell to thinking, however, and did not speak at once. He was evidently combining something in his head; he hesitated, considered, and at last said: "It cannot be otherwise!"
"I
