"Death to the Poles and lords!"
All at once a young Cossack stepped forward, shook his pike, and cried: "Fathers, if we go to Zólotonosha to-morrow, we will go to the manager's house to-night."
"To the manager's house!" cried a number of voices at once.
"Burn it up! take the goods!"
But the minstrel, who held his head drooping on his breast, raised it and said,--
"Oh, children, do not go to the manager's house, and do not burn it, or you will suffer. The prince may be close by, he is going along with his army; he will see the fire, he will come, and there will be trouble. Better give me something to eat and show me a place to rest. And do you keep your peace!"
"He tells the truth!" said a number of voices.
"He tells the truth, and, Maksim, you are a fool!"
"Come, father, to my house for bread and salt and a cup of mead, and rest on the hay till daylight," said an old peasant, turning to the minstrel.
Zagloba rose, and pulled the sleeve of Helena's svitka. She was asleep.