It had become bright day when he stood near Charnyetski and Kmita. He did not see Kmita; for he had crawled to the other side to examine the woodwork, which a Swedish ball had harmed somewhat. The prior asked straightway,—
“But where is Babinich? Is he not sleeping?”
“I, sleep in such a night as this!” answered Pan Andrei, climbing up on the wall. “I should have no conscience. Better watch as an orderly of the Most Holy Lady.”
“Better, better, faithful servant!” answered Kordetski.
Pan Andrei saw at that moment a faint Swedish light gleaming, and immediately he cried,—
“Fire, there, fire! Aim! higher! at the dog-brothers!”
Kordetski smiled, seeing such zeal, and returned to the cloister to send to the wearied men a drink made of beer with pieces of cheese broken in it.
Half an hour later appeared women, priests, and old men of the church, bringing steaming pots and jugs. The soldiers seized these with alacrity, and soon was heard along all the walls eager drinking. They praised the drink, saying,—
“We are not forgotten in the service of the Most Holy Lady. We have good food.”
“It is worse for the Swedes,” added others. “It was hard for them to cook food the past night; it will be worse the night coming.”