"To horse! to horse!"
The hoofs of the horses under Vershul's Tartars were clattering by the windows. The townspeople, roused by the arrival of troops, burst from their houses with lanterns and torches in their hands. The news flew through the town like lightning. The alarm was sounded. The town, silent a moment before, was filled with yells, tramping of horses, shouting of orders, and wailing of Jews. The inhabitants wishing to leave with the troops got ready wagons, in which they put their wives and children, with featherbeds. The mayor, at the head of a number of citizens, came to beg Skshetuski not to depart at once, but to convoy the inhabitants even to Tarnopol. Skshetuski would not listen; for the order received was explicit, to go to Lvoff as fast as his breath would let him. They hurried away therefore; and on the road Vershul, recovering breath, told what had happened, and how.
"Since the Commonwealth has been a commonwealth," said he, "never has it borne such a defeat. Tsetsora, Jóltiya Vodi, Korsún, are nothing in comparison."
Skshetuski, Volodyovski, and Pan Longin bent down to the necks of their horses, now grasping their own heads, now raising their hands to heaven. "The thing passes human belief," said they. "But where was the prince?"
"Deserted by all, thrust aside on purpose; he did not command, in fact, his own division."
"Who had command?"
"No man, and all men. I have been long in service, I have eaten my teeth in war, and yet up to this day I have not seen such armies and such leaders."
Zagloba, who had no great love for Vershul and knew him but little, began to shake his head and smack his lips; at last he said,--
"My dear sir, either your vision is confused, or you have taken some partial defeat for a general one; for what you relate passes imagination completely."
"That it passes imagination, I confess; and I'll say more to you,--that I should gladly give my head to be severed if by some miracle it should appear that I am mistaken."