"Woe to you, brothers, for whoso makes war for gain or vengeance will be damned forever. Let us pray, so that we obtain mercy. Woe to you, brothers, woe to me! Woe! woe! woe!"
A groan came from the breast of the prince.
"Lord, have mercy upon us!" answered the dull voices of the Cossacks, who under the influence of fear began to make the sign of the cross in terror.
Suddenly a wild piercing shriek from the princess was heard: "Vassily! Vassily!"
There was something in her voice as full of anguish as in the last voice of life passing away. But the Cossacks pressing her with their knees knew that she could not escape from their hands.
The prince shuddered, but immediately covered himself with the cross, on the side from which the voice came, and said: "Oh, lost soul, crying from the abyss, woe to thee!"
"Lord, have mercy upon us!" repeated the Cossacks.
"To me!" said Bogun to the Cossacks that moment, and he staggered.
The Cossacks sprang and supported him under the shoulders.
"You are wounded, father?"