What this one thing might be which yet bound him to life he was in no hurry to disclose, not even to Taras, whose devotion and loving care for the wounded man were only equalled by Tatiana's. Once only, when the hetman had to leave him for a couple of days at the call of duty, the well-kept secret seemed about to be told. For Taras had learned that Green Giorgi, reinforced by several of his own late followers, had dared to resume his predatory life, and he at once resolved to bring those scoundrels to justice, Jemilian himself urging him not to delay. And when the fearless band was mounted, and Taras once more returned to the sick-bed to take leave of his friend, the wounded man suddenly grew restless, looking doubtfully at the girl. Tatiana understood, and left the two by themselves. "Dear master," said Jemilian; "you may be absent for several days, and I may be gone when you return; yet I must not die without telling you one thing!"
"I shall find you alive, and, please God, getting better," said Taras, cheeringly. "But if it is any comfort to you----"
The old man shook his head. "No," he said, falteringly; "I think I will wait till death tightens its hold; for if, after all, I should recover by some miracle it were terrible ... terrible ... to have told you! No! go your way, dear master, and God bless you.... I will wait!"
And as Taras rode along at the head of his followers he kept thinking of these strange words; but explanation there seemed none, and his attention presently was otherwise engaged. The enterprise was successful as usual, if not fully, for Green Giorgi himself was not among the hajdamaks he waylaid and caught, and Taras had to be satisfied with punishing his accomplices. The two most guilty he ordered to be shot, while the rest were disarmed and shorn of their hair.
Returning to the settlement, he found his faithful old servant alive still, but his last hour evidently at hand. But not yet did he refer to his secret, and Taras cared not to inquire. Not till the last sands were running through did the old man open his lips. It was near midnight; he had been lying still with closed lids, but, suddenly endeavouring to raise himself, he gazed anxiously at the pale, beautiful girl who sat by his side. "Tatiana," he whispered; "for God's sake, where is my master? Call him--I am going!"
She hastened away, and in another minute Taras was by the side of the dying man, taking hold of his hand tenderly. And Jemilian having satisfied himself that they were alone, began with laboured breath:--
"I have to make a confession to you, and to ask a promise. Hear me--a dying man cannot use many words. Do you know what, after all, will be your end?"
Taras kept silence, a stony look stealing over his face.
"The gallows!" whispered the old man, and shuddered. "It is an evil death, Taras--a horror to yourself and a lasting disgrace for your children! And therefore I have been resolved fully and firmly to save you from such a death, my poor, dear, dear master! I have sworn to myself, if ever we should fall into their hands, and there were no hope of escape, to shoot you myself with these hands of mine."
"Jemilian!"