“Ah, you see— Is she a worthy maiden?”
“Really so; and terribly pretty.”
“And the Turk was at hand?”
“But she is as honest as a nun; that I must say for her. And as to suffering I think that would come sooner from the Zamoyski guardianship than from you.”
Here Kmita told what had taken place and how. Then the hetman fell to clapping him on the shoulder and laughing,—
“Well, you are a crafty fellow! Not in vain do they tell so much of Kmita. Have no fear! Pan Zamoyski is not a stubborn man, and he is my friend. His first anger will pass, and he will even laugh at it himself and reward you.”
“I need no reward!” interrupted Kmita.
“It is well that you have ambition and are not looking for favor. Only serve me against Boguslav, and you will not need to think of past outlawry.”
Sapyeha was astonished when he looked at the soldier’s face, which a moment before was so open and joyous. Kmita at mention of Boguslav grew pale in an instant, and his face took on wrinkles like the face of a dog, when preparing to bite.
“Would that the traitor were poisoned with his own spittle, if he could only fall into my hands before his death!” said he, gloomily.