“That is well,” said Charnyetski; “not a foot of those men should escape.”
“If any one speaks when we enter,” continued Pan Andrei, “let me answer; I can speak German as well as Polish; they will think that some one is coming from Miller, from the camp.”
“If only there are no sentries behind the intrenchments.”
“Even if there are, we shall spring on in a moment; before they can understand who and what, we shall have them down.”
“It is time to turn, the end of the trench can be seen,” said Charnyetski; and turning he called softly, “To the right, to the right!”
The silent line began to bend. That moment the moon lighted a bank of clouds somewhat, and it grew clearer. The advancing men saw an empty space in the rear of the trench.
As Kmita had foreseen, there were no sentries whatever on that space; for why should the Swedes station sentries between their trenches and their own army, stationed in the rear of the trenches. The most sharp-sighted leader could not suspect danger from that side.
At that moment Charnyetski said in the lowest whisper; “Tents are now visible. And in two of them are lights. People are still awake there,—surely officers. Entrance from the rear must be easy.”
“Evidently,” answered Kmita. “Over that road they draw cannon, and by it troops enter. The bank is already at hand. Have a care now that arms do not clatter.”
They had reached the elevation raised carefully with earth dug from so many trenches. A whole line of wagons was standing there, in which powder and balls had been brought.