“Evil fate has missed us,” thought he, “for we killed those fellows. I’m curious to know whom we shall kill next time.”
And it was all one to him, as was also this,—whither he was faring.
No one dared approach Kmita or ask him anything, for the young colonel was as gloomy as night. He grieved terribly that he had to kill those men, at the side of whom he would have been glad to stand as quickly as possible in the ranks. But if he had yielded and let himself be taken to Volodyovski, what would Volodyovski have thought on learning that he was seized making his way in disguise to the Swedes, and with passes to the Swedish commandants?
“My old sins are pursuing and following me,” said Kmita to himself. “I will flee to the farthest place; and guide me, O God!”
He began to pray earnestly and to appease his conscience, which repeated, “Again corpses against thee, and not corpses of Swedes.”
“O God, be merciful!” answered Kmita. “I am going to my king; there my service will begin.”
CHAPTER XXXII.
Jendzian had no intention of passing a night at “The Mandrake,” for from Vansosh to Shchuchyn was not far,—he wanted merely to give rest to his horses, especially to those drawing the loaded wagons. Therefore, when Kmita let him travel farther, Jendzian lost no time, and entered Shchuchyn late in the evening. Having announced himself to the sentries, he took his place on the square; for the houses were occupied by soldiers, who even then were not all able to find lodgings. Shchuchyn passed for a town, but was not one in reality; for it had not yet even walls, a town hall, courts of justice, or the college of monks, founded in the time of King Yan III. It had a few houses, but a greater number of cabins than houses, and was called a town, because it was built in a quadrangular form with a market-place in the centre, slightly less swampy than the pond at which the paltry little place was situated.
Jendzian slept under his warm wolfskin till morning, and then went straight to Pan Volodyovski, who, as he had not seen him for an age, received him with gladness and took him at once to Pan Yan and Zagloba. Jendzian shed tears at sight of his former master, whom he had served faithfully so many years; and with whom he had passed through so many adventures and worked himself finally to fortune. Without shame of his former service, Jendzian began to kiss the hands of Pan Yan and repeat with emotion,—
“My master, my master, in what times do we meet again!”