Here they embraced each other again. “Something tells me that God will give him into our hands!” exclaimed Kmita, with emotion. “And I think so too.”
“I have made a vow to fast till death on the day in which I meet him.”
“The protection of God will not fail you,” said Volodyovski. “I shall not be envious, either, if this lot falls to you, for your wrong is greater. Yendrek, let me look at you! You have grown perfectly black from the weather; but you have acquitted yourself. The whole division looks with the greatest esteem on your labor. Nothing behind you but ruins and corpses! You are a born soldier; and it would go hard with Zagloba himself, were he here, to invent in self-praise deeds better than those you have done.”
“But where is Zagloba?”
“He remained with Sapyeha; for he fell into weeping and despair after Kovalski.”
“Then has Kovalski fallen?”
Volodyovski pressed his lips. “Do you know who killed him?”
“Whence should I know? Tell me!”
“Prince Boguslav!”
Kmita turned in his place, as if thrust with a point, and began to draw in air with a hiss; at last he gritted his teeth, and casting himself on the bench, rested his head on his palms in silence.