"Then you need go no farther, for we are carrying the orders."
Pan Longin frowned; for from his soul he wished to get to the prince, to see the court, and especially one little person at that court. Zagloba began to mutter significantly to Volodyovski.
"Then I'll go to Cracow," said the Lithuanian, after a moment's thought. "I was ordered to deliver the letter, and I will deliver it."
"Let's go and order them to warm up some beer," said Zagloba.
"And where are you going?" asked Pan Longin.
"To Zamost, to Skshetuski."
"He is not in Zamost."
"Now, old woman, you've got a cake. Where is he?"
"Somewhere around Khoroschina; he is breaking up disorderly bands. Hmelnitski retreated; but his colonels are burning, robbing, and slaying along the road. The starosta of Valets has ordered Pan Jakob Rogovski to disperse them."
"And is Skshetuski with him too?"