"Let us go."
"With the forehead to your grace, our benefactor!" said Marek, pushing out in front and bending down to the knees of Pan Serafin.
"But whither?"
"To Lesnichovka. God help us."
"And I will help you," said Pan Serafin; "but such grief seized me that I had to pour it out. Go upstairs, gentlemen,--rest; later on ye will learn my decision."
An hour later he commanded to drive to Father Voynovski's. The priest was scandalized no little by the deeds of the Bukoyemskis, but at moments he could not restrain himself from laughter, for having served many years in the army he recalled various happenings which had met him and his comrades. But he could not forgive the brothers for drinking away the horses.
"A soldier will often run riot," said he, "but to drink away his horse! that is treason to the service. I will tell the Bukoyemskis that I should have been glad if martial law had taken the heads from their shoulders, and that certainly would have given an example to rioters, but I confess to you that I should have been sorry, for all four are splendid fellows. I know from of old what men are, and I can say in advance what each is good for. As to the Bukoyemskis, it will be unhealthy for those pagans who strike breast to breast with them in battle. What do you think to do with them?"
"I will not leave them without rescue, but I think if I were to send them off alone the same kind of thing might meet them a second time."
"True!" said the priest.
"Hence it has occurred to me to go with them, and give them straight into the hands of the captain. Once with the flag and under discipline, they can grant themselves nothing."