Deep silence followed. Those present looked at one another; uncertainty was on every face.
"How could you hold out?" asked the chancellor, with an accent of doubt.
At these words Skshetuski raised his head, as if new power entered him. A flash of pride passed over his face, and he answered with a voice strong beyond expectation: "Twenty assaults repulsed, sixteen battles in the field won, seventy-five sallies."
Again silence followed.
Then the king straightened himself, shook his wig as a lion would his mane, on his sallow face came out a blush, and his eyes flashed. "As God lives!" cried he, "I've enough of these councils, of this halting, of this delay! Whether the Khan is there or not, whether the general militia has come or not, I have enough of this! We will move to-day on Zbaraj."
"To Zbaraj! to Zbaraj!" was repeated by a number of powerful voices.
The face of the newly arrived brightened like the dawn. "Your Majesty, we will live and die with you."
At these words the noble heart of the king grew soft as wax, and without regarding the repulsive appearance of the knight, he pressed his head with his hands and said: "You are dearer to me than others in satin. By the Most Holy Mother, men for less service are rewarded with starostaships. But what you have done will not pass unrewarded. I am your debtor."
Others began immediately to call out after the king: "There has been no greater knight!" "He is the first among the men of Zbaraj!" "You have won immortal glory!"
"And how did you push through the Cossacks and Tartars?"