"And he told you that the young lady is at Rashkoff?"
"Who else should tell me?"
"Listen, Jendzian! it is a question here of the life of your master and the young lady. Did Bogun himself tell you that she was not in Kieff?"
"My master, how could she be in Kieff when he secreted her at Rashkoff, and told Horpyna on peril of her life not to let her escape? But now he has given me a baton and his ring to go to her; for his wounds opened, and he had to lie down himself, it is unknown for how long."
Further words from Jendzian were interrupted by Zagloba, who sprang from the bench again, and seizing the remnant of his hair with both hands, began to shout like a madman: "My daughter is living,--by God's wounds, she is living! They didn't kill her in Kieff; she is alive, she is alive, my dearest!"
And the old man stamped with his feet, laughed and sobbed. Finally, he seized Jendzian by the head, pressed him to his bosom and began to kiss him, so that the young fellow lost his head altogether.
"Let me go, my master, for I am stifled! Of course she is alive--God grant us to go together for her, my master--But, my master!"
"Let him go, let him tell his story, for we don't understand anything yet," said Volodyovski.
"Speak, speak!" cried Zagloba.
"Begin at the beginning, brother," said Pan Longin, on whose mustaches, too, thick dew had settled down.