“Till that man shall come who will not spare his soul for the love of truth!” exclaimed Kmita. “The prophecy leaves hope! Not judgment, but salvation awaits us.”
“Sodom was to be spared if ten just men could be found in it,” said the starosta; “but that many were not found. In the same manner will not be found the man who will not spare his soul for love of truth; and the hour of judgment will strike.”
“It cannot be but that he will be found,” called out Kmita.
Before the starosta answered the door opened, and into the room walked a man no longer young, in armor and with a musket in his hand.
“Pan Shchebjytski?” said the starosta.
“Yes,” answered the newly arrived. “I heard that ruffians had besieged you, and I hastened with my servants to the rescue.”
“Without the will of God a hair will not fall from the head of a man,” answered the starosta. “This cavalier has already freed me from oppression. But whence do you come?”
“From Sohachev.”
“Have you heard anything new?”
“Every news is worse. New misfortune—”