“That party? Me? I have conducted it, or rather I have brought it, for there is not even one man of that party who can sit on a horse alone.”
“What do you say? What has happened?” inquired Volodyovski.
“They are terribly beaten!” explained Jendzian.
“Who beat them?”
“Pan Kmita.”
The Skshetuskis and Zagloba sprang up from the benches, one interrupting the other in questioning,—
“Pan Kmita? But what was he doing here? Has the prince himself come already? Well! Tell right away what has happened.”
Pan Volodyovski rushed out of the room to see with his eyes, to verify the extent of the misfortune, and to look at the men; therefore Jendzian said,—
“Why should I tell? Better wait till Pan Volodyovski comes back; for it is more his affair, and it is a pity to move the mouth twice to repeat the same story.”
“Did you see Kmita with your own eyes?” asked Zagloba.