“Take him, then.”
Now both returned to the room where the rest of the officers were assembled. Miller turned to them and said,—
“In view of the services of Pan Kuklinovski I place at his absolute disposal this prisoner.”
A moment of silence followed; then Pan Zbrojek put his hands on his sides, and asked with a certain accent of contempt,—
“And what does Pan Kuklinovski think to do with the prisoner?”
Kuklinovski bent, straightened himself quickly, his lips opened with an ill-omened smile, and his eyes began to quiver.
“Whoso is not pleased with what I do to the prisoner, knows where to find me.” And he shook his sabre.
“Your promise, Pan Kuklinovski,” said Zbrojek.
“Promise, promise!”
When he had said this he approached Kmita. “Follow me, little worm; come after me, famous soldier. Thou’rt a trifle weak; thou needst swathing,—I’ll swathe thee.”