They rode forward, not hurrying over-much; then they went on a trot.
“Soroka!” said Kmita.
“At command!” answered the voice of the sergeant at his side.
Kmita said nothing more, but stretching out his hand, put his palm on Soroka’s head, as if wishing to convince himself that he was riding there. The soldier pressed Pan Andrei’s hand to his lips in silence.
Then Glovbich called from the other side,—
“Your grace! I wanted long to do what I have done to-day.”
“You will not regret it!”
“I shall be thankful all my life to you.”
“Tell me, Glovbich, why did the prince send you, and not a foreign regiment, to the execution?”
“Because he wanted to disgrace you before the Poles. The foreign soldiers do not know you.”