"You will perish!" answered, like an echo, Volodyovski.
At that moment the Cossack threw, his sabre from his right to his left hand,--a feat possible only to the ablest fencers,--and gave with his left hand such a terrible blow that Volodyovski fell to the ground as if struck by lightning.
"Jesus, Mary!" screamed Zagloba.
But Volodyovski had fallen on purpose, so that the sabre of Bogun might meet only air. Then the little knight sprang up like a wildcat, and with almost the whole length of his blade cut terribly into the open breast of the Cossack.
Bogun tottered, advanced a step, and with a last effort gave the last thrust. Volodyovski warded it off with ease, and struck still twice on the inclined head. The sabre dropped from the powerless hands of Bogun, and he fell with his face on the sand, which immediately reddened under him in a broad pool of blood.
Eliasenko, present at the duel, rushed to the body of the ataman. The seconds were unable to utter a word for some time. Pan Michael too was silent; he rested both hands on his sabre and panted heavily.
Zagloba first broke the silence. "Pan Michael, come to my embrace!" said he, with emotion.
Then they surrounded him in a circle.
"You are a swordsman of the first water. May the bullets strike you!" said the Selitskis.
"You are a deceitful rogue, I see," said Kharlamp; "but I'll meet you, lest it be said that I am afraid. But though you were to slash me in such fashion as this, still I congratulate you."