"We heard, we heard, but whether it is anything good we don't know. Many people have collected there. They spoke of Hmelnitski,--that he had conquered the hetman's son and his knights. We heard, too, that the peasants are rising against the nobles on the Russian bank."
Immediately the crowd surrounded Zagloba, who, sitting by Helena, struck the strings of the lyre from time to time.
"Then you heard, father, that the people are rising?"
"I did; for wretched is our peasant lot."
"But they say there will be an end to it?"
"In Kieff they found on the altar a letter from Christ, saying there would be fearful and awful war and much blood-spilling in the whole Ukraine."
The half-circle in front of the bench on which Zagloba sat contracted still more.
"You say there was a letter?"
"There was, as I am alive. About war and the spilling of blood. But I cannot speak further, for the throat is dried up within me, poor old man!"
"Here is a measure of gorailka for you, father; and tell us what you have heard in the world. We know that minstrels go everywhere and know everything. There have been some among us already. They said that the black hour would come from Hmelnitski on the lords. We had these scythes and pikes made for us, so as not to be the last; but we don't know whether to begin now or to wait for a letter from Hmelnitski."