But the young Tartar straightened himself suddenly, pushed his head back like a bird of prey ready to strike, and said, “I am standing before my betters.” Then he went out of the room.
It was noisy after his exit. “It is not to be wondered at,” said the officers among themselves; “his heart is indignant yet at the injustice, but that will pass. We must treat him differently. He has real knightly mettle in him. The hetman knew what he was doing. Miracles are happening; well, well!”
Pan Snitko was triumphing in silence; at last he could not restrain himself and said, “Permit me, your grace, but that wolf was not a traitor.”
“Not a traitor?” retorted Zagloba. “He was a traitor, but a virtuous one, for he betrayed not us, but the horde. Do not lose hope, Pan Snitko; I will pray to-day for your wit, and perhaps the Holy Ghost will have mercy.”
Basia was greatly comforted when Zagloba related the whole affair to her, for she had good-will and compassion for Mellehovich. “Michael and I must go,” said she, “on the first dangerous expedition with him, for in this way we shall show our confidence most thoroughly.”
But the little knight began to stroke Basia’s rosy face and said, “O suffering fly, I know you! With you it is not a question of Mellehovich, but you would like to buzz off to the steppe and engage in a battle. Nothing will come of that!”
“Mulier insidiosa est (woman is insidious)!” said Zagloba, with gravity.
At this time Mellehovich was sitting in his own room with the Tartar messenger and speaking in a whisper. The two sat so near each other that they were almost forehead to forehead. A taper of mutton-tallow was burning on the table, casting yellow light on the face of Mellehovich, which, in spite of its beauty, was simply terrible; there were depicted on it hatred, cruelty, and a savage delight.
“Halim, listen!” whispered Mellehovich.
“Effendi,” answered the messenger.