Here the young man raised his plump face with pride, and began to smooth his mustaches; at last he said,—
“Will you be my attendant, carry my sabre, and manage my men?”
Kmita did not restrain himself, but burst out in sincere, joyous laughter, so that all his teeth gleamed.
“Why laugh?” asked the unknown, frowning.
“From delight at the service.”
But the youthful personage was offended in earnest, and said,—
“He was a fool who taught you such manners, and be careful with whom you are speaking, lest you exceed measure in familiarity.”
“Forgive me, your grace,” answered Kmita, joyously, “for really I do not know before whom I am standing.”
The young lord put his hands on his hips: “I am Pan Jendzian of Vansosh,” said he, with importance.
Kmita had opened his mouth to tell his assumed name, when Biloüs came hurriedly into the room.