“How is it? Is no one of you thinking whether there are not means of escape? It is worth while to exercise one’s wits on this. Are we to rot in this cellar, when every hand is needed for the country, when one man of honor must settle ten traitors?”
“Father is right,” said Pan Yan.
“You alone have not become stupid from pain. What do you suppose? What does that traitor think of doing with us? Surely he will not punish us with death?”
Pan Michael burst out in a sudden laugh of despair. “But why not? I am curious to learn! Has he not authority, has he not the sword? Do you not know Radzivill?”
“Nonsense! What right do they give him?”
“Over me, the right of a hetman; over you, force!”
“For which he must answer.”
“To whom,—to the King of Sweden?”
“You give me sweet consolation; there is no denying that!”
“I have no thought of consoling you.”