at the gate were coming over to the Hungarians, for they are opening the gate, — dust is rising on the outside; I see Kmita! Kmita is rushing through the gate with cavalry!"
"On whose side is he, on whose side?" cried Zagloba.
For a moment Pan Michael gave no answer; but very soon the clatter of weapons, shrieks, and shouts were heard with redoubled force.
"It is all over with them!" cried Pan Michael, with a shrill voice.
"All over with whom, with whom?"
"With the Hungarians. The cavalry has broken them, is trampling them, cutting them to pieces! Their flag is in Kmita's hand! The end, the end!"
When he had said this, Volodyovski dropped from the window and fell into the arms of Pan Yan.
"Kill me!" cried he, "kill me, for I had that man under my sabre and let him go with his life; I gave him his commission. Through me he assembled that squadron with which he will fight now against the country. I saw whom he got: dog-brothers, gallows-birds, robbers, ruffians, such as he is himself. God grant me to meet him once more with the sabre — God! lengthen my life to the death of that traitor, for I swear that he will not leave my hands again."
Meanwhile cries, the trample of hoofs, and salvos of musketry were thundering yet with full force; after a time, however, they began to weaken, and an hour later silence reigned in the castle of Kyedani, broken only by the measured tread of the Scottish patrols and words of command.
"Pan Michael, look out once more and see what has happened," begged Zagloba.
"What for?" asked the little knight. "Whoso is a soldier will guess what has happened. Besides, I saw them beaten, — Kmita triumphs here!"
"God give him to be torn with horses, the scoundrel, the hell-dweller! God give him to guard a harem for Tartars!"
