"Oh, the dog-souls! And so you came out with the commissioners?"
"With the commissioners to Gushchi, and from there to Ostrog; farther I came alone."
"Then you are an old acquaintance of Pan Skshetuski?"
"I made his acquaintance in the Saitch, nursed him when he was wounded, and then I learned to like him as if he were my own child. I am old, and have nobody to love."
Zagloba called to the servant, gave orders to bring in mead and meat, and they sat down to supper. Zakhar ate heartily, for he was road-weary and hungry; then he sank his gray mustaches eagerly in the dark liquid, drank, smacked his lips, and said: "Splendid mead!"
"Better than the blood which you folks drink," said Zagloba. "But I think that you are an honest man, and loving Pan Skshetuski, will not go any more to the rebellion, but remain with us. It will be good for you here."
Zakhar raised his head. "I delivered the letter, now I'll go back. I am a Cossack. It is for me to be a brother with the Cossacks, not with the Poles."
"And will you beat us?"
"I will. I am a Cossack of the Saitch. We elected Hmelnitski hetman, and now the king has sent him the baton and the banner."
"There it is for you, Pan Michael! Have not I advised a protest? And from what kuren are you?"