Page:Henryk Sienkiewicz - Potop - The Deluge (1898 translation by Jeremiah Curtin) - Vol 1.djvu/448

418 All at once Kmita stepped forward. Those approaching did not recognize him, however, for his face was bound up; they halted, and began to measure him with curious and unquiet eyes.

"And where is the other son, Pan Kyemlich?" asked Kmita; "he has not fallen, I hope."

"Who is that — how is that — what — who is talking ? " asked the old man, in a voice of amazement and as it were terrified.

And he stood motionless, with mouth and eyes widely open; then the son, who since he was younger had quicker vision, took the cap from his head.

"For God's sake, father! that's the colonel!" cried he.

"O Jesus! sweet Jesus!" cried the old man, "that is Pan Kmita!"

And both took the fixed posture of subordinates saluting their commanders, and on their faces were depicted both shame and wonder.

"Ah! such sons," said Pan Andrei, laughing, "and greeted me from a gun?"

Here the old man began to shout, —

"Come this way, all of you! Come!"

From the thicket appeared a number of men, among whom were the second son of the old man and the pitch-maker; all ran up at breakneck speed with weapons ready, for they knew not what had happened. But the old man shouted again, —

"To your knees, rogues, to your knees! This is Pan Kmita! What fool was it who fired ? Give him this way!"

"It was you, father," said young Kyemlich.

"You lie, — you lie like a dog! Pan Colonel, who could know that it was your grace who had come to our cabin? As God is true, I do not believe my own eyes yet."

"I am here in person," answered Kmita, stretching his hand toward him.

"Jesus!" said the old man, "such a guest in the pine-woods. I cannot believe my own eyes. With what can we receive your grace here? If we expected, if we knew!"

Here he turned to his sons: "Run, some blockhead, to the cellar, bring mead!"

"Give the key to the padlock, father."

The old man began to feel in his belt, and at the same time looked suspiciously at his son.

"The key of the padlock? But I know thee, gypsy; thou wilt drink more thyself than thou'lt bring. What's