“With the forehead, Pan Harasimovich,” answered Kharlamp; “and what is your wish?”
“God gave guests, distinguished guests. I came to offer my services and to inquire their rank.”
“Did they come to you, Pan Harasimovich?”
“Certainly not to me, for I am not worthy of that; but because I take the place of the absent marshal. I have come to greet them profoundly.”
“It is far from you to the marshal,” said Kharlamp; “for he is a personage with inherited land, while you with permission are under-starosta of Zabludovo.”
“A servant of the servants of Radzivill. That is true, Pan Kharlamp, I make no denial; God preserve me therefrom. But since the prince has heard of the guests, he has sent me to inquire who they are; therefore you will answer, Pan Kharlamp, if I were even a haiduk and not the under-starosta of Zabludovo.”
“Oh, I would answer even a monkey if he were to come with an order,” said Big Nose. “Listen now, and calk these names into yourself if your head is not able to hold them. This is Pan Skshetuski, that hero of Zbaraj; and this is his cousin Stanislav.”
“Great God! what do I hear?” cried Harasimovich.
“This is Pan Zagloba.”
“Great God! what do I hear?”