But she had arisen, and covering her face with a veil, said to old Billevich,—
“Uncle, let us go, let us go from here quickly!”
And they went out through the door of the vestry.
Pan Andrei tried to rise to follow her, but he could not. His strength left him entirely.
But a quarter of an hour later he was in front of the church, supported on one side by Pan Volodyovski, on the other by Zagloba.
The throng of people, small nobles and common men, crowded around. Women, some barely able to tear away from the breast of a husband returned from the war, led by curiosity special to the sex, ran to look at that Kmita, once terrible, now the savior of Lauda and the coming starosta. The throng became greater every instant, till the Lauda men had at last to surround him and protect him from the crush.
“Pan Andrei!” cried Zagloba, “see, we have brought you a present. You did not expect such a one. Now to Vodokty, to Vodokty, to the betrothal and the wedding!”
Further words of Zagloba were lost in the thundering shout raised at once by the Lauda men, under the leadership of Yuzva Footless,—
“Long life to Pan Kmita!”
“Long life!” repeated the crowd. “Long life to our starosta of Upita! Long life!”