“But give peace, give peace!” cried Kmita, excitedly; “let no misunderstanding rise between us again. Whether I err or err not, be silent on that point. Let each man follow the way of his conscience; God will judge every intention. Better that I have come hither, than to go without farewell. Give me your hand for the road. Only that much is mine; for to-morrow I shall not see you, nor after tomorrow, nor in a month, perhaps never—Oi, Olenka! and in my head it is dim—Olenka! And shall we never meet again?”
Abundant tears like pearls were falling from Panna Aleksandra’s lashes to her cheeks.
“Pan Andrei, leave traitors, and all may be.”
“Quiet, oh, quiet!” said Kmita, with a broken voice. “It may not be—I cannot—better say nothing— Would I were slain! less should I suffer— For God’s sake, why does this meet us? Farewell for the last time. And then let death close my eyes somewhere outside— Why are you weeping? Weep not, or I shall go wild!”
And in supreme excitement he seized her half by constraint, and though she resisted, he kissed her eyes and her mouth, then fell at her feet. At last he sprang up, and grasping his hair like a madman, rushed forth from the chamber.
“The devil could do nothing here, much less a red ribbon.”
Olenka saw him through the window as he was mounting in haste; the seven horsemen then moved forward. The Scots on guard at the gate made a clatter with their weapons, presenting arms; then the gate closed after the horsemen, and they were not to be seen on the dark road among the trees.
Night too had fallen completely.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Kovno, and the whole region on the left bank of the Vilia, with all the roads, were occupied by the enemy (the Russians); therefore Kmita, not being able to go to Podlyasye by the high-road leading from Kovno to Grodno and thence to Byalystok, went by side-roads from Kyedani straight down the course of the Nyevyaja to the Nyemen, which he crossed near Vilkovo, and found himself in the province of Trotsk.