The officer galloped away, and was soon rushing over the field at the head of two hundred men; seeing which the enemy’s infantry began to form in the willows to receive the Poles. The squadron urged the horses, and in the willow-bushes a musketry fire was soon rattling.
Billevich had doubts, not only of victory, but of saving his own infantry. He might withdraw to the rear with a part of the cavalry with the ladies, and seek safety in the forest; but such a withdrawal would be a great defeat, for it meant leaving to the enemy’s sword most of the party and the remnant of the population of Lauda, which had collected in Volmontovichi to see Billevich. Volmontovichi itself would be levelled to the ground. There remained still the lone hope that Hjanstovski would break the infantry. Meanwhile it was growing dark in the sky; but in the village the light increased every moment, for the chips, splinters, and shavings, lying in a heap at the first house near the gate, had caught fire. The house itself caught fire from them, and a red conflagration was rising.
By the light of the burning Billevich saw Hjanstovski’s cavalry returning in disorder and panic; after it the Swedish infantry were rushing from the willows, advancing to the attack on a run.
He understood then that he must retreat by the only road open. He rushed to the rest of the cavalry, waved his sword and cried,—
“To the rear, gentlemen, and in order, in order!”
Suddenly shots were heard in the rear also, mingled with shouts of soldiery.
Billevich saw then that he was surrounded, that he had fallen as it were into a trap from which there was neither issue nor rescue. It remained for him only to perish with honor; therefore he sprang out before the line of cavalry, and cried,—
“Let us fall one upon the other! Let us not spare our blood for the faith and the country!”
Meanwhile the fire of the infantry defending the gate and the left side of the village had grown weak, and the increasing shout of the enemy announced their near victory.
But what mean those hoarse trumpet sounds in the ranks of Sakovich’s party, and the rattle of drums in the ranks of the Swedes?