When Pan Skshetuski with his cousin Stanislav and Zagloba, after a toilsome journey from the wilderness, came at last to Upita, Pan Volodyovski went almost wild from delight, especially since he had long had no news of them; he thought that Yan was with a squadron of the king which he commanded under the hetmans in the Ukraine.
Pan Michael took them in turn by the shoulders, and after he had pressed them once he pressed them again and rubbed his hands. When they told him of their wish to serve under Radzivill, he rejoiced still more at the thought that they would not separate soon.
“Praise God that we shall be together, old comrades of Zbaraj!” said he. “A man has greater desire for war when he feels friends near him.”
“That was my idea,” said Zagloba; “for they wanted to fly to the king. But I said, ‘Why not remember old times with Pan Michael? If God will give us such fortune as he did with Cossacks and the Tartars, we shall soon have more than one Swede on our conscience.’”
“God inspired you with that thought,” said Pan Michael.
“But it is a wonder to me,” added Yan, “how you know already of the war. Stanislav came to me with the last breath of his horse, and we in that same fashion rode hither, thinking that we should be first to announce the misfortune.”
“The tidings must have come through the Jews,” said Zagloba; “for they are first to know everything, and there is such communication between them that if one sneezes in Great Poland in the morning, others will call to him in the evening from Lithuania and the Ukraine, ‘To thy health!’”
“I know not how it was, but we heard of it two days ago,” said Pan Michael, “and there is a fearful panic here. The first day we did not credit the news greatly, but on the second no one denied it. I will say more; before the war came, you would have said that the birds were singing about it in the air, for suddenly and without cause all began to speak of war. Our prince voevoda must also have looked for it and have known something before others, for he was rushing about like a fly in hot water, and during these last hours he has hastened to Kyedani. Levies were made at his order two months ago. I assembled men, as did also Stankyevich and a certain Kmita, the banneret of Orsha, who, as I hear, has already sent a squadron to Kyedani. Kmita was ready before the rest of us.”
“Michael, do you know Prince Radzivill well?” asked Yan.
“Why should I not know him, when I have passed the whole present war[[17]] under his command?”