“Are they really mining?” asked the starosta, in alarm.
“Seventy cannon are playing, and their thunder is almost unceasing; still, there are moments of quiet. When such a moment comes, put down your ear carefully and listen.”
At that time it was not needful to wait long, especially as an accident came to their aid. One of the Turkish siege-guns burst; that caused a certain disorder. They sent from other intrenchments to inquire what had happened, and there was a lull in cannonading.
Pan Michael and the starosta approached the very end of one of the projections of the castle, and began to listen. After a certain time their ears caught clearly enough the resonant sound of hammers in the cliff.
“They are pounding,” said the starosta.
“They are pounding,” said the little knight.
Then they were silent. Great alarm appeared on the face of the starosta; he raised his hands and pressed his temples. Seeing this, Pan Michael said,—
“This is a usual thing in all sieges. At Zbaraj they were digging under us night and day.”
The starosta raised his hand: “What did Prince Yeremi do?”
“He withdrew from intrenchments of wide circuit into narrower ones.”