“Even as high as the gibbet,” said the other.
But the speakers did not foresee that a worse fate than even the gibbet was awaiting Count Veyhard.
That moment the thunder of cannon interrupted further conversation.
“What is that? firing from the fortress!” cried Miller. And springing up like a man possessed, he ran out of the room.
All ran after him and listened. The sound of regular salvos came indeed from the fortress.
“Are they fighting inside, or what?” cried Miller; “I don’t understand.”
“I will explain to your worthiness,” said Zbrojek, “this is Saint Stephen’s Day, and the name’s day of the Zamoyskis, father and son; the firing is in their honor.”
With that shouts of applause were heard from the fortress, and after them new salvos.
“They have powder enough,” said Miller, gloomily. “That is for us a new indication.”
But fate did not spare him another very painful lesson.