“Soplica,” he said, “ancestral enemy of my family, to-day I punish thee for ancient and for fresh offences; to-day thou wilt render me an account for the seizure of my fortune before I avenge me for the insult to my honour!”
But the Judge crossed himself and cried:—
“In the name of the Father and of the Son! foh! My Lord the Count, are you a robber? By God, does this befit your birth, your education, and the station you occupy in the world? I will not permit myself to be wronged!”
Meanwhile the servants of the Judge had run up, some with clubs, others with guns; the Seneschal, standing some distance away, looked curiously into the eyes of the Count—and held a knife in his sleeve.
They were already on the point of beginning battle, but the Judge prevented them; it was vain to offer any defence, for a new enemy was coming up. Among the alders they saw a flash, and heard the report of a carbine! [pg 217] The bridge over the river rattled with the trampling of cavalry, and a thousand voices thundered, “Down with the Soplica!” The Judge shuddered, for he recognised Gerwazy's watchword.
“This is nothing,” cried the Count, “there will soon be more of us here; submit, Judge, these are my allies.”
Thereupon the Assessor ran up shouting:—
“I arrest you in the name of His Imperial Majesty! Yield your sword, Count, for I shall summon the aid of the army; and you are aware, that if any one dares to make a night attack under arms, it is provided by ukaz one thousand two hundred, that as a malef——”
Thereupon the Count struck him across the face with the flat of his sword. The Assessor fell stunned, and disappeared among the nettles; all thought that he was wounded or dead.
“I see,” said the Judge, “that this looks like brigandage.”