"But for you, — for me, for the Radzivills?"
Yanush made no answer; he dropped his head on his fists and thought.
"Let it be so!" said he, at last; "let it be accomplished!"
"What have you decided?"
"To-morrow I march on Podlyasye, and in a week I shall strike on Sapyeha."
"You are a Radzivill!" cried Boguslav. And they grasped each other's hands.
After a while Boguslav went to rest. Yanush remained alone. Once, and a second time he passed through the room with heavy steps. At last he clapped his hands. A page entered the room.
"Let the astrologer come in an hour to me with a ready figure," said he.
The page went out, and the prince began again to walk and repeat his Calvinistic prayers. After that he sang a psalm in an undertone, stopping frequently, for his breath failed him, and looking from time to time through the window at the stars twinkling in the sky.
By degrees the lights were quenched in the castle; but besides the astrologer and the prince one other person was watching in a room, and that was Olenka Billevich.
Kneeling before her bed, she clasped both hands over her head, and whispered with closed eyes, —
"Have mercy on us ! Have mercy on us!"
The first time since Kmita's departure she would not, she could not pray for him.
