"But three heads are in the way, are they?"
"Ah, that's the truth!"
"Well, I tell you: give a good blow, and cut them off at once from Hmelnitski, the Khan, and Bogun."
"Oh, if they would only stand in a row!" said Pan Longin, in a voice full of emotion, raising his eyes to heaven.
Meanwhile Volodyovski rode by Skshetuski, and looked from under his helmet in silence at his pallid face, till at last their stirrups touched.
"Yan," said he, "it is bad for you to forget yourself."
"I am not forgetting myself, I am praying," answered Skshetuski.
"That is a holy and praiseworthy thing; but you are not a monk, to be occupied in prayer alone."
Pan Yan turned his suffering face slowly to Volodyovski, and inquired with a dull voice, full of deathly resignation: "Tell me, Michael, what is left to me now but a monk's habit?"
"It remains to you to rescue her," answered Volodyovski.