The king clapped his hands with delight. “God sent us this soldier!” cried he. “Solomon could not judge better. I give my vote for this plan, and there must not be another. They will hunt for the king among the dragoons, and the king will pass by under their noses. It could not be better!”
“Gracious King,” cried Tyzenhauz, “that is pastime.”
“Soldier’s pastime!” said the king. “But no matter, I will not recede from that plan.”
Kmita’s eyes shone from delight because his opinion had prevailed, but Tyzenhauz sprang from his seat.
“Gracious Lord!” said he, “I resign my command from the dragoons. Let some one else lead them.”
“And why is that?”
“For if your Royal Grace will go without defence, exposed to the play of fortune, to every destructive chance which may happen, I wish to be near your person to expose my breast for you and to die should the need be.”
“I thank you for your sincere intention,” answered Yan Kazimir; “but calm yourself, for in just such a way as Babinich advises shall I be least exposed.”
“Let Pan Babinich, or whatever his name may be, take what he advises on his own responsibility! It may concern him that your Royal Grace be lost in the mountains. I take as witness God and my companions here present that I advised against it from my soul.”
Scarcely had he finished speaking when Kmita sprang up, and standing face to face with Tyzenhauz asked, “What do you mean by these words?”