“And who are you yourself?”
“The starosta of Vansosh.”
His own people usually called Jendzian starosta, as he was the tenant of a starostaship, and he thus named himself on the most important occasions.
Yuzva Butrym was confused, seeing with what a high personage he had to do; therefore he removed his cap, and said,—
“With the forehead, great mighty lord. It was not possible to recognize dignity in the dark.”
“Whose men are these?” repeated Jendzian, placing his hands on his hips.
“The Lauda men from the former Billevich squadron, and now of Pan Volodyovski’s.”
“For God’s sake! Then Pan Volodyovski is in the town of Shchuchyn?”
“In his own person, and with other colonels who have come from Jmud.”
“Praise be to God, praise be to God!” repeated the delighted starosta. “And what colonels are with Pan Volodyovski?”