“I know you too little to speak confidentially, but be assured that in a week or two the treasury of the King of Sweden will be as weighty as that of the Sultan.”
“Then some alchemist must make money for him, since there is no place from which to get it in this country.”
“In this country? It is enough to stretch forth daring hands. And of daring there is no lack among us, as is shown by the fact that we are now rulers here.”
“True, true,” answered Kmita; “we are very glad of that rule, especially if you teach us how to get money like chips.”
“The means are in your power, but you would rather die of hunger than take one copper.”
Kmita looked quickly at the officer, and said,—
“For there are places against which it is terrible, even for Tartars, to raise hands.”
“You are too mysterious. Sir Cavalier,” answered the officer, “and remember that you are going, not to Tartars, but to Swedes for money.”
Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a new party of men, whom the officer was evidently expecting, for he hurried out of the inn. Kmita followed and stood in the door to see who were coming.
In front was a closed carriage drawn by four horses, and surrounded by a party of Swedish horsemen; it stopped before the inn. The officer who had just been talking to Kmita went up to the carriage quickly, and opening the door made a low bow to the person sitting inside.