Fools! they thought that it had no defence but its walls and its weapons; they knew not what hearts filled with faith are. The prior then fearing lest they might spread doubt among the people, dismissed them, save one who was esteemed a master in his art.
That same day old Kyemlich and his sons came to Kmita with a request to be freed from service. Anger carried away Pan Andrei. "Dogs!" cried he, "you are ready to resign such a service and will not defend the Most Holy Lady. — Well, let it be so! You have had pay for your horses, you will receive the rest for your services soon."
Here he took a purse from a casket, and threw it on the floor to them. "Here are your wages! You choose to seek plunder on that side of the walls, — to be robbers instead of defenders of Mary! Out of my sight! you are not worthy to be here! you are not worthy of Christian society! you are not worthy to die such a death as awaits you in this place! Out, out!"
"We are not worthy," answered the old man, spreading his hands and bending his head, "we are not worthy to have our dull eyes look on the splendors of Yasna Gora, Fortress of heaven! Morning Star! Refuge of sinners! We are not worthy, not worthy." Here he bent so low that he bent double, and at the same time with his thin greedy hands, grown lean, seized the purse lying on the floor. "But outside the walls," said he, "we shall not cease to serve your grace. In sudden need, we will let you know everything; we will go where 'tis needful; we will do what is needful. Your grace will have ready servants outside the walls."
"Be off!" repeated Pan Andrei.
They went out bowing; for fear was choking them, and they were happy that the affair had ended thus. Toward evening they were no longer in the fortress.
A dark and rainy night followed. It was November 8; an early winter was approaching, and together with waves of rain the first flakes of wet snow were flying to the ground. Silence was broken only by the prolonged voices of guards calling from bastion to bastion, "Hold watch!" and in the darkness slipped past here and there the white habit of the prior, Kordetski. Kmita slept not; he was on the walls with Charnyetski, with whom he spoke of his past campaigns. Kmita narrated the course of the war with
