love for the country in those nobles. It will be easier now for the prince to send off the envoys with nothing, for all he has to do is to call upon us. That will not be, I think, without reward, though it is more a question of honor with me. Why have you halted, Michael, as if turned to stone, with eyes fixed on that carriage at the gate?"
"That is she!" said Volodyovski, with twitching mustaches. "By the living God, that is she herself!"
"Who?"
"Panna Billevich."
"She who refused you?"
"The same. Look, gentlemen, look! Might not a man wither away from regret?"
"Wait a minute!" said Zagloba, "we must have a closer look."
Meanwhile the carriage, describing a half-circle, approached the speakers. Sitting in it was a stately noble with gray mustaches, and at his side Panna Aleksandra; beautiful as ever, calm, and full of dignity.
Pan Michael fixed on her a complaining look and bowed low, but she did not see him in the crowd.
"That is some lordly child," said Zagloba, gazing at her fine, noble features, "too delicate for a soldier. I confess that she is a beauty, but I prefer one of such kind that for the moment you would ask, 'Is that a cannon or a woman?'"
"Do you know who that is who has just passed?" asked Pan Michael of a noble standing near.
"Of course," answered the noble; "that is Pan Tomash Billevich, sword-bearer of Rossyeni. All here know him, for he is an old servant and friend of the Radzivills."
