Suddenly a happy thought came to Volodyovski, as it seemed to him. “There is another way!” cried he. “Meet me, traitor, with a sabre. If you put me down, you will go away in freedom.”
For a time there was no answer. The hearts of the Lauda men beat unquietly.
“With a sabre?” asked Kmita, at length. “Can that be?”
“If you are not afraid, it will be.”
“The word of a cavalier that I shall go away in freedom?”
“The word—”
“Impossible!” cried a number of voices among the Butryms.
“Quiet, a hundred devils!” roared Volodyovski; “if not, then let him blow you up with himself.”
The Butryms were silent; after a while one of them said, “Let it be as you wish.”
“Well, what is the matter there?” asked Kmita, derisively. “Do the gray coats agree?”