“Ha!” said Zagloba, “they look on me here as a mushroom, not a man, for the abbess invites me to live in the nunnery. But I’ll pay her, my head on that point! Have you seen how Pani Hotsimirski is ogling me? She is a widow—very well—I won’t tell you any more.”
“I think I shall stay,” said the little knight.
“If you will only rest well,” said Basia.
“Why shouldn’t he rest?” asked Zagloba.
“Because we shall talk, and talk, and talk.”
Zagloba wishing to go to his own room, turned to look for his cap; at last, when he had found it, he put it on his head and said, “You will not talk, and talk, and talk.” Then he went out.
CHAPTER LIII.
Next morning, at daybreak, the little knight went to Knyahin and captured Buluk Pasha,—a notable warrior among the Turks. The whole day passed for him in labor on the field, a part of the night in counsel with Pan Pototski, and only at first cockcrow did he lay down his wearied head to sleep a little. But he was barely slumbering sweetly and deeply when the thunder of cannon roused him. The man Pyentka, from Jmud, a faithful servant of Pan Michael, almost a friend, came into the room.
“Your grace,” said he, “the enemy is before the town.”
“What guns are those?” asked the little knight.