“I cannot measure with him yet. He struck me with a double-handed sword on the head, and knocked me down with my horse. My morion was of trusty steel, and did not let the sword through; but I fainted.”
“You should hang up that morion in a church.”
“I will pursue him, even to the end of the world!” said Kmita.
To this the hetman answered: “See what news I have received to-day after the battle!”
Kmita read aloud the following words,—
The King of Sweden has moved from Elblang; he is marching on Zamost, thence to Lvoff against Yan Kazimir. Come, your worthiness, with all your forces, to save king and country, for I cannot hold out alone.
Charnyetski.
A moment of silence.
“Will you go with us, or will you go with the Tartars to Taurogi?”
Kmita closed his eyes. He remembered the words of Father Kordetski, and what Volodyovski had told him of Pan Yan, and said,—