“I forgot to take it,” answered Kosma.
“I wish you were killed! Let the old man think of everything, and these rascals haven’t wit for a copper! You forgot the rings, you thieves? You lie like dogs!”
“Then turn back, father, and look,” muttered Damian.
“You lie, you thieves! You hide things. You wrong your old father,—such sons! I wish that I had not begotten you. You will die without a blessing.”
Kmita reined in his horse somewhat. “Come this way!” called he.
The dispute ceased, the Kyemliches hurried up, and they rode farther four abreast.
“And do you know the road to the Silesian boundary?” asked Pan Andrei.
“O Mother of God! we know, we know,” answered the old man.
“There are no Swedish parties on the road?”
“No, for all are at Chenstohova, unless we might meet a single man; but God give us one!”