“Not Poles,” said the terrified Rössel. “One is a Prussian noblewoman; the other is a Swede, who formerly served the wife of General Israel.”
Babinich looked at Pan Michael and drew a deep breath; the little knight was relieved too, and began to move his mustaches.
“Gentlemen, permit me to rest,” said Rössel. “I am dreadfully tired, for the Tartar led me ten miles with a lariat.”
Kmita clapped his hands for Soroka, and committed the prisoner to him; then he turned with quick step to Pan Michael.
“Enough of this!” said he. “I would rather perish a hundred times than live in this ceaseless alarm and uncertainty. When Rössel mentioned those women just now, I thought that some one was going at my temple with a club.”
“It is time to finish!” said Volodyovski, shaking his sabre.
At that moment trumpets sounded at the hetman’s quarters; soon trumpets answered in all the Lithuanian squadrons, and pipes in the chambuls.
The troops began to assemble, and an hour later were on the march.
Before they had gone five miles a messenger hurried up from Byeganski of Korsak’s squadron, with intelligence for the hetman that a number of troopers had been seized from a considerable body occupied in collecting on that side of the river all the wagons and horses of the peasants. Interrogated on the spot, they acknowledged that the tabor of the whole army was to leave Prostki about eight o’clock in the morning, and that commands were issued already.
“Let us praise God and urge on our horses,” said Gosyevski. “Before evening that army will be no longer in existence.”