"Caught him!" cried Wassilj at this moment from the further corner of the room. "Here he is!" And sure enough something like a man it seemed, but in the strangest hiding place. The large fuel basket had been turned upside down, and emptied of its contents of firewood, and some one had squeezed himself in as best he might. But success was not equal to the effort, a pair of coattails showing treacherously; on Wassilj giving the basket a kick it capsized, but the man inside stuck fast, yelling, however, vociferously.
"That is not Hajek's voice!" cried Taras, Wassilj and Sefko dragging its owner from the basket. And, indeed, it was not the mandatar, but only the fifth at the late banquet, the ere-while champion of Poland's honour--Mr. Thaddeus de Bazanski. But how little he that was half-brother of Nicolas I. at this moment showed worthy of his august descent! His head and shoulders covered with wood chips, his garments torn, his knees trembling, and his face so white with terror that the nose itself had only the faintest flush left of its usual redness. Thus he stood before them, clutching the immortal confederatka to his bosom, and so overpowered with fear that he could only shiver and quake in speechless agony.
"Who on earth are you?" inquired Taras, peremptorily.
"I ... oh!... a visitor ... mercy! I could not help it!"
"Where is the mandatar?"
"He got away--made his escape while old Bogdan kept you talking ..." Taras stamped furiously. "Ah, mercy, I will tell you everything!" faltered the whilom conqueror of Ostrolenka, sinking to his knees. "They did not think there was much fear of your coming, on account of the soldiers, but Mr. Hajek insisted on setting spies, that he might be warned of any possible danger. We were still at table--and a fine banquet it was--when suddenly the signal was given; there was barely time left to lock the outer gate and drag the mandatar from the house. He could not stand on his own legs for fear of meeting you; but since there was a chance of his getting away safely through the orchards, and gaining the town, old Bogdan and his womenfolk undertook to lead you off the scent. They expected me to take a part also, but I stoutly refused. 'How should I deceive this Taras, this noble avenger,' I said; 'I shall do no such thing; for Taras is a brave man, an honourable man, a generous----'"
Which eulogy was not even heard by Taras. "Follow me!" he called out to his men, bursting from the house. "I want to have a word with that pack of deceivers; where are they?"
"Made their escape, hetman," reported the men at the door.
"Their escape? I will hold every one of you answerable!"
The two men in charge of the grounds now came up. "Hetman," they said; "we can hardly be blamed. These three deceitful serpents would have got round an archangel, not to say the devil himself. We had asked them to keep near the house, and there they stood awhile, when the old woman suddenly gave a cry with all the antics of swooning; upon which the young one implored us to assist in carrying her mother into the arbour yonder. And then she fell a-shrieking, 'Water! water! for pity's sake, get some water!' Well, as they were women after all, and the old man, who kept wringing his hands, assured us she would die unless we complied, what else could we do? We went for water, and returning quickly enough, we found they had gone--disappeared in the darkness. We searched the orchard, but they have escaped us, much to our disgust."