Look not, my daughter! cover thy eyes,
With thy white hands,
For thy heart will spring out of thy bosom
With them to the war.”
“Who taught you such lovely songs?” asked Panna Aleksandra.
“War, Olenka. In the camp we sang them to one another to drive away sadness.”
Further conversation was interrupted by a loud calling from the rear sleighs: “Stop! stop! Hei there—stop!”
Pan Andrei turned around in anger, wondering how it came to the heads of his comrades to call and stop him. He saw a few tens of steps from the sleigh a horseman approaching at full speed of the horse.
“As God lives, that is my sergeant Soroka; what can have happened?” said Pan Andrei.
That moment the sergeant coming up, reined his horse on his haunches, and began to speak with a panting voice: “Captain!—”