“But did not I say so?” cried Yan Kazimir. “You, gentlemen, had no need to be anxious. Let us ride on now, let us ride, for we have earned our rest.”
All advanced at a trot, briskly, joyously; and an hour later the wearied king was sleeping a sleep without care on his own territory.
That evening Tyzenhauz approached Kmita. “Forgive me,” said he; “out of love for the king I brought you under suspicion.”
Kmita refused his hand and said: “Oh, that cannot be! You made me a traitor and a betrayer.”
“I would have done more, for I would have shot you in the head; but since I have convinced myself that you are an honest man and love the king, I stretch out my hand to you. If you wish, take it; if not, take it not. I would prefer to have no rivalry with you save that of attachment to the king; but I am not afraid of other rivalry.”
“Is that your thought? H’m! perhaps you are right, but I am angry with you.”
“Well, stop being angry. You are a strong soldier. But give us your lips, so that we may not lie down to sleep in hatred.”
“Let it be so!” said Kmita.
And they fell into each other’s arms.