“The late under-chamberlain,” said Kmita, “lived with her most of the time in Kyedani, at the court of the prince voevoda, or lived with the Hleboviches; and there she acquired those high manners. But her beauty,—what of that? You cannot let your breath go yet.”
“We have appeared as fools,” said Ranitski, in anger; “but the biggest fool was Kokosinski.”
“Traitor! why punch me with your elbow? You should have appeared yourself, with your spotted mouth.”
“Harmony, lambs, harmony!” said Kmita; “I will let you admire, but not wrangle.”
“I would spring into the fire for her,” said Rekuts. “Hew me down, Yendrus, but I’ll not deny that.”
Kmita did not think of cutting down; he was satisfied, twisted his mustache, and gazed on his comrades with triumph. Now Panna Aleksandra entered, wearing a marten-skin cap, under which her bright face appeared still brighter. They went out on the porch.
“Then shall we ride in this sleigh?” asked the lady, pointing to the silvery bear. “I have not seen a more beautiful sleigh in my life.”
“I know not who has used it hitherto, for it was captured. It suits me very well, for on my shield is a lady on a bear. There are other Kmitas who have banners on their shield, but they are descended from Filon Kmita of Charnobil; he was not of the same house from which the great Kmitas are descended.”
“And when did you capture this bear sleigh?”
“Lately, in this war. We poor exiles who have fallen away from fortune have only what war gives us in plunder. But as I serve that lady faithfully, she has rewarded me.”