Kisel raised his lids and fixed his glassy eyes on the castellan. "Jóltiya Vodi, Korsún, Pilavtsi!" said he, in hollow tones.
He was silent, and after him all were silent. But Pan Kulchinski, the treasurer of Kieff, began to repeat the rosary in an audible voice; and Pan Kjetovski, master of the chase, seized his head with both hands, and repeated,--
"What times, what times! God have mercy upon us!"
The door opened, and Bryshovski, captain of the dragoons of the bishop of Poznania, commander of the convoy, entered the room.
"Serene voevoda," said he, "some Cossack wants to see the commissioners."
"Very well," answered Kisel; "has the crowd dispersed?"
"The people have gone away; they promised to return to-morrow."
"Did they press on much?"
"Terribly, but Donyéts' Cossacks killed a number of them. To-morrow they promise to burn us."
"Very well, let that Cossack enter."