The younger man in the long wig and foreign dress was Prince Boguslav, the cousin of Yanush. After a while he whispered something more in the ear of the hetman, and at last said audibly,—
“I will leave, then, my signature on the document and go.”
“Since it cannot be otherwise, go,” said Yanush, “though I would that you remained, for it is unknown what may happen.”
“You have planned everything properly; henceforth it is needful to look carefully to the cause, and now I commit you to God.”
“May the Lord have in care our whole house and bring it praise.”
“Adieu, mon frère.”
“Adieu.”
The two princes shook hands; then Boguslav went out hurriedly, and the grand hetman turned to the visitors.
“Pardon me, gentlemen, that I let you wait,” said he, with a low, deliberate voice; “but now time and attention are snatched from us on every side. I have heard your names, and rejoice in my soul that God sent me such knights in this crisis. Be seated, dear guests. Who of you is Pan Yan Skshetuski?”
“I am, at the service of your highness.”