Kettling, as an excellent officer, might find service, and a more noble service, elsewhere, and with it powerful protectors, such as the king. Pan Sapyeha, or Pan Charnyetski; and he would, besides, serve a just cause, and would find a career grateful to that country which had received him as an exile. Death threatened him only in case he fell into Boguslav’s hands; but Boguslav did not command yet the whole Commonwealth.
Olenka ceased to hesitate; and when the health of the young officer had improved, she sent for him.
Kettling stood before her, pale, emaciated, without a drop of blood in his face, but always full of respect, homage, and submission. At sight of him tears came to Olenka’s eyes; for he was the only friendly soul in Taurogi, and at the same time so thin and suffering that when Olenka asked how his health was, he answered,—
“Alas, my lady, health is returning, and it would be so pleasant to die.”
“You should leave this service,” said she, looking at him with sympathy; “for such an honorable man needs assurance that he is serving a just cause and a worthy master.”
“Alas!” repeated the officer.
“When will your service end?”
“In half a year.”
Olenka was silent awhile; then she raised her wonderful eyes, which at that moment had ceased to be stern, and said,—
“Listen to me. I will speak to you as to a brother, as to a sincere confidant. You can, and you should resign.”