“I saw it myself,” answered Rössel. “Two sheets were placed one above the other, and the doctor put in the centre of them. Four strong soldiers took the sheets by the corners, and threw up the poor doctor. I tell you, gentlemen, that he went nearly ten ells into the air, and he had hardly come down when they hurled him up again. General Israel, Count Waldeck, and the prince were holding their sides from laughter. Many of the officers too were looking at the spectacle, till the doctor fainted. Then the prince was free of his fever, as if some hand had removed it.”
Though Pan Michael and Babinich hated Boguslav, still they could not restrain themselves from laughter when they heard of this joke. Babinich struck his knees and cried,—
“Ah, the scoundrel! how he helped himself!”
“I must tell Zagloba of this medicine,” said Pan Michael.
“It cured him of the fever,” said Rössel; “but what is that, when the prince does not restrain sufficiently the impulses of his blood, and therefore will not live to ripe age?”
“I think so too,” muttered Babinich. “Such as he do not live long.”
“Does he give way to himself in the camp?” asked Pan Michael.
“Of course,” answered Rössel. “Count Waldeck laughed, saying that his princely grace takes with him waiting-maids. I saw myself two handsome maidens; his attendants told me that they were there to iron his lace—but God knows.”
Babinich, when he heard this, grew red and pale; then he sprang up, and seizing Rössel by the arm began to shake him violently.
“Are they Poles or Germans?”