“What is the matter, Soroka?”
“Upita is on fire; they are fighting!”
“Jesus Mary!” screamed Olenka.
“Have no fear!—Who is fighting?”
“The soldiers with the townspeople. There is a fire on the square! The townspeople are enraged, and they have sent to Ponyevyej for a garrison. But I galloped here to your grace. I can barely draw breath.”
During this conversation the sleighs behind caught up; Kokosinski, Ranitski, Kulvyets-Hippocentaurus, Uhlik, Rekuts, and Zend, springing out on the snow, surrounded the speakers with a circle.
“What is the matter?” asked Kmita.
“The townspeople would not give supplies for horses or men, because there was no order for it; the soldiers began to take by force. We besieged the mayor and those who barricaded themselves in the square. Firing was begun, and we burned two houses; at present there is terrible violence, and ringing of bells—”
Kmita’s eyes gleamed with wrath.
“We must go to the rescue!” shouted Kokosinski.