permission of God, evil will conquer everywhere until the moment in which trumpeting angels shall sound for the end of the world."
Here the starosta leaned against the back of the chair on which he was sitting, closed his eyes, and spoke on in a low, mysterious voice, —
"It was said, 'There will be signs.' There have been signs on the sun in the form of a hand and a sword. God be merciful to us, sinners ! The evil gain victory over the just, for the Swedes and their adherents are conquering. The true faith is failing, for behold the Lutheran is rising. Men! do ye not see that dies iræ, dies ilia (the day of wrath, that day) is approaching? I am seventy years old; I stand on the brink of the Styx, — I am waiting for the ferryman and the boat, — I see —"
Here the starosta became silent, and Kmita looked at him with terror; for the reasons seemed to him just, the conclusions fitting, therefore he was frightened at his decisions and reflected deeply. But the starosta did not look at him; he only looked in front of himself, and said at last, —
"And of course the Swedes conquer here when that is the permission of God, the express will mentioned and spoken of in the Prophecies — Oi, people, to Chenstohova, to Chenstohova!" And again the starosta was silent.
The sun was just setting, and looking only aslant into theroom, its light broke into colors on the glass fitted in lead, and made seven colored stripes on the floor; the rest of the room was in darkness. It became more and more awe-inspiring for Kmita; at moments it seemed to him that if the light were to vanish, that instant the trumpeting angel would summon to judgment.
"Of what prophecies is your grace speaking?" asked Kmita, at last; for the silence seemed to him still more solemn.
The starosta instead of an answer turned to the door of an adjoining room, and called, —
"Olenka! Olenka!"
"In God's name!" cried Kmita, "whom are you calling?"
At that moment he believed everything, — believed that his Olenka by a miracle was brought from Kyedani and would appear before his eyes. He forgot everything, fastened his gaze on the door, and waited without breath in his breast.
"Olenka! Olenka!"
The door opened, and there entered not Panna Billevich,
VOL. I.—34
