Night had fallen, but very calm and clear; the road was marked by a silver line; only the rolling of the carriage and the tramp of the horses broke the silence.
“My Tartars must be lurking here like wolves in a thicket,” thought Kmita.
Then he bent his ear.
“What is that?” asked he of the officer who was leading the escort.
“A tramp! Some horseman is galloping after us!” answered the officer.
He had barely finished speaking when a Cossack hurried up on a foaming horse, crying,—
“Pan Babinich! Pan Babinich! A letter from Pan Zamoyski.”
The retinue halted. The Cossack gave the letter to Kmita.
Kmita broke the seal, and by the light of a lantern read as follows:—
“Gracious and dearest Pan Babinich! Soon after the departure of Panna Borzobogati tidings came to us that the Swedes not only have not left Lublin, but that they intend to attack my Zamost. In view of this, further journeying and peregrination become inconvenient. Considering therefore the dangers to which a fair head might be exposed, we wish to have Panna Borzobogati in Zamost. Those same knights will bring her back; but you, who must be in haste to continue your journey, we do not wish to trouble uselessly. Announcing which will of ours to your grace, we beg you to give orders to the horseman according to our wishes.”