"I should be glad to go; but what will happen to the letters I am taking,--one from the starosta of Valets to the king, another to the prince, and a third from Skshetuski to the prince, with a request for leave?"
"We are taking leave to him."
"Yes, but how can I avoid delivering the letters?"
"You must go to Cracow, it cannot be otherwise; however, I tell you sincerely I should be glad, in this quest after the princess, to have such fists as yours behind my shoulders; but for any other purpose you are useless. There dissimulation will be necessary, and complete disguise in Cossack dress, to appear as peasants; but you are so remarkable with your stature that every one would ask, 'Who is that tall booby? Where did such a Cossack as that come from?' Besides, you don't know their language well. No, no! you go to Cracow, and we will help ourselves somehow."
"That is what I think too," said Volodyovski.
"Surely it must be so," answered Podbipienta. "May the merciful God bless and aid you! And do you know where she is hidden?"
"Bogun would not tell. We know only what I overheard when Bogun confined me in the stable, but that is enough."
"But how will you find her?"
"My head, my head!" said Zagloba. "I was in more difficult places than this. Now the question is only to find Skshetuski as quickly as possible."
"Inquire in Zamost. Pan Weyher must know, for he corresponds with him, and Skshetuski sends him captives. May God bless you!"