Thus muttering, Zagloba placed Jendzian's head on his knees and began to pour the mead through his blue lips.
"We will see if you have good blood in you. If it is Jewish, when mixed with mead or wine it will boil; if clownish, being torpid and heavy, it will sink. Only the blood of a noble becomes lively and forms excellent liquor, which gives manhood and daring to the body. The Lord gave different drinks to different people, so that each one might have his own appropriate pleasure."
Jendzian groaned faintly.
"Ah, ha! you want more. No, brother, let me have some too,--that's the style. Now, since you have given sign of life, I think I'll take you to the stable and put you somewhere in a corner, so that dragon of a Cossack may not tear you to pieces when he gets back. He is a dangerous friend, the devil take him! for I see that his hand is quicker than his wit."
Zagloba raised Jendzian from the floor with ease, showing unusual strength, carried him to the anteroom, and then to the yard, where a number of Cossacks were playing dice on a rug spread on the ground. They greeted him, and he said,--
"Boys, take this youngster for me, put him on the hay, and let some one run for a barber."
The command was obeyed immediately, for Zagloba as a friend of Bogun enjoyed consideration among the Cossacks.
"And where is the colonel?" he asked.
"He ordered his horse and went to the regimental quarters. He commanded us also to be ready and have our horses saddled."
"Is mine ready?"