Suddenly the door opened. An officer entered, an old acquaintance of Kmita’s from Birji, and eight soldiers,—four with muskets, four without firearms,—with sabres.
“Gracious Colonel, rise!” said the officer, politely.
Kmita looked on him wanderingly. “Glovbich!” said he, recognizing the officer.
“I have an order,” answered Glovbich, “to bind your hands and conduct you beyond Yanov. The binding is for a time, then you will go free; therefore I beg you not to resist.”
“Bind!” answered Kmita.
And he permitted them to tie him. But they did not tie his feet. The officer led him out of the room and on foot through Yanov. Then they advanced for about an hour. On the road some horsemen joined them. Kmita heard them speaking in Polish; the Poles, who served with Boguslav, all knew the name of Kmita, and therefore were most curious to know what would happen to him. The party passed the birch grove and came to an open field, on which Pan Andrei saw a detachment of the light Polish squadron of Boguslav.
The soldiers stood in rank, forming a square; in the middle was a space in which were two foot-soldiers holding horses harnessed to draw, and some men with torches.
By the light of the torches Pan Andrei saw a freshly sharpened stake lying on the ground with the large end fastened in a great log.
A shiver passed through Kmita involuntarily. “That is for me,” thought he; “Boguslav has ordered them to draw me on the stake with horses. He sacrifices Sakovich to his vengeance.”
But he was mistaken; the stake was intended first for Soroka.