king and the dignitaries listened to him in amazement. The archbishop raised his tearful eyes to heaven. Father Vydjga interpreted everything hurriedly to the nuncio; other great personages caught their heads; some prayed, or beat their breasts.
At last, when Kmita came to the recent storms, – when he began to relate how Miller had brought heavy guns from Cracow, and among them one against which not only the walls of Chenstohova, but no walls in the world could stand, – such silence began as though some one were sowing poppy seeds, and all eyes rested on Pan Andrei's lips.
But he stopped suddenly, and began to breathe quickly; a clear flush came out on his face; he frowned, raised his head, and spoke boldly: "Now I must speak of myself, though I should prefer to be silent. And if I say aught which seems praise, God is my witness that I do so not for rewards, for I do not need them, since the greatest reward for me is to shed my blood for majesty."
"Speak boldly, I believe you," said the king. "But that great gun?"
"That great gun – I, stealing out in the night from the fortress, blew into fragments with powder."
"O loving God!" cried the king.
But after this cry was silence, such astonishment had seized each person. All looked as at a rainbow at the young hero, who stood with flashing eyes, with a flush on his face, and with head proudly erect. And so much was there in him at that moment of a certain terribleness and wild courage that the thought came to each one unwittingly, such a man might dare such a deed. After silence of a moment the primate said, —
"This man looks like that!"
"How did you do it?" asked the king.
Kmita explained how he did it.
"I cannot believe my ears," said Pan Korytsinski, the chancellor.
"Worthy gentlemen," answered the king, with dignity, "you do not know whom we have before us. There is yet hope that the Commonwealth has not perished while it gives such cavaliers and citizens."
"This man might say of himself, 'Si fractus illabatur orbis, impavidum ferient ruinæ (If the broken firmament should fall the ruins would strike him unterrified)!'" said Father Vydjga, who loved to quote authors at every opportunity.
"These are almost impossible things," said the chancellor again. "Tell, Cavalier, how you brought away your life, and how you passed through the Swedes."
"The explosion stunned me," said Kmita, "and next day the Swedes found me in the ditch lying as if lifeless. They judged me at once, and Miller condemned me to death."
"Then did you escape?"
"A certain Kuklinovski begged me of Miller, so that he might put me to death, for he had a fierce animosity against me."
"He is a well-known disturber and murderer; we have heard of him," said the castellan of Kjyvinsk. "His regiment is with Miller at Chenstohova. That is true!"
"Previously Kuklinovski was an envoy from Miller to the cloister, and once tried to persuade me in secret to treason when I was conducting him to the gate. I struck him in the face and kicked him. For that insult he was enraged against me."
"Ah, this I see is a noble of fire and sulphur!" cried the king, amused. "Do not go into such a man's road. Did Miller then give you to Kuklinovski?"
"He did, Gracious Gentlemen. Kuklinovski shut me with himself and some men in an empty little barn. There he had me tied to a beam with ropes, then he began to torture me and to burn my sides with fire."
"By the living God!"
"While doing this he was called away to Miller; when he was gone three nobles came, certain Kyemliches, his soldiers, who had served with me previously. They killed the guards, and unbound me from the beam – "
"And you fled! Now I understand," said the king.
"No, your Royal Grace. We waited for the return of Kuklinovski. Then I gave command to tie him to that same beam, and I burned him better with fire."
When he had said this, Kmita, roused by remembrance, became red again, and his eyes gleamed like those of a wolf. But the king, who passed easily from grief to joy, from seriousness to sport, began to strike the table with his hand, and exclaim with laughter, —
"That was good for him! that was good for him! Such a traitor deserved nothing better!"
"I left him alive," continued Kmita, "but he must have perished from cold before morning."
"That's a deed; he does not give away his own. We need more of such!" cried the king, now completely delighted. "Did you come hither with those soldiers? What are their names?"
"They are Kyemlich, a father and two sons."
"My mother is from the house of Kyemlich," said Father Vydjga.
"It is evident that there are great and small Kyemliches," answered Kmita, smiling; "these are not only small persons, but robbers; they are fierce soldiers, however, and faithful to me."
Meanwhile the chancellor, who had been whispering for a time in the ear of the Archbishop of Gnyezno, said at last, —
"Many come here who for their own praise or for an expected reward are glad to raise dust. They bring false and disturbing news, and are frequently sent by the enemy."
This remark chilled all present. Kmita's face became purple.
"I do not know the office of your grace," said he, "which, I think, must be considerable, therefore I do not wish to offend you; but there is no office, as I think, which would empower any one to give the lie to a noble, without reason."
"Man! you are speaking to the grand chancellor of the kingdom," said Lugovski.
"Whoso gives me the lie, even if he is chancellor, I answer him, it is easier to give the lie than to give your life, it is easier to seal with wax than with blood!"
Pan Korytsinski was not angry; he only said: "I do not give you the lie, Cavalier; but if what you say is true, you must have a burned side."
"Come to another place, your great mightiness, to another room, and I will show it to you!" roared Kmita.
"It is not needful," said the king; "I believe you without that."
"It cannot be, your Royal Grace," exclaimed Pan Andrei; "I wish it myself, I beg it as a favor, so that here no one, even though I know not how worthy, should make me an exaggerator. My torment would be an ill reward; I wish belief."
"I believe you," answered the king.
"Truth itself was in his words," added Marya Ludvika. "I am not deceived in men."
"Gracious King and Queen, permit. Let some man go aside with me, for it would be grievous for me to live here in suspicion."
"I will go," said Pan Tyzenhauz, a young attendant of the king. So saying, he conducted Kmita to another room, and on the way said to him, "I do not go because I do not believe you, for I believe; but to speak with you. Have we met somewhere in Lithuania? I cannot remember your name, for it may be that I saw you when a youth, and I myself was a youth then?"
Kmita turned away his face somewhat to hide his sudden confusion.
"Perhaps
