"The word came out of itself. I trusted in you, Pan Michael. I am old, and my breath is short. I choke, and this beauty can jump like a goat. He is a fleet hound, Pan Michael."
"I'll do my best," said the little knight.
"God give you aid! Don't lose courage!"
"Why should I?"
At that moment one of the Selitskis came up to them. "He is a trim fellow, your Cossack," he whispered; "he acts with us as if he were an equal, if not a superior. What a bearing! It must be that his mother looked on some noble."
"It is more likely," said Zagloba, "that some noble looked on her."
"And so it appears to me," said Volodyovski.
"To our places!" called Bogun, suddenly.
"To our places, to our places!"
They took their places,--the nobles in a half-circle, Volodyovski and Bogun opposite each other.