“God grant,” said he, after a moment, “that all these guests whom I have received under my roof will not pass to my enemies to-morrow.”
“Your highness,” said Kmita, “I hope that there are no Swedish adherents among them.”
Radzivill quivered and halted suddenly.
“What do you wish to say?”
“Nothing, worthy prince, but that honorable soldiers are rejoicing there.”
“Let us go on. Time will show, and God will decide who is honorable. Let us go!”
At the door itself stood twenty pages,—splendid lads, dressed in feathers and satin. Seeing the hetman, they formed in two lines. When the prince came near, he asked, “Has her princely highness entered the hall?”
“She has, your highness.”
“And the envoys?”
“They are here also.”