Page:Henryk Sienkiewicz - Potop - The Deluge (1898 translation by Jeremiah Curtin) - Vol 1.djvu/562

532 ruffians had besieged you, and I hastened with my servants to the rescue."

"Without the will of God a hair will not fall from the head of a man," answered the starosta. "This cavalier has already freed me from oppression. But whence do you come?"

"From Sohachev."

"Have you heard anything new?"

"Every news is worse. New misfortune —"

"What has happened?"

"The provinces of Cracow, Sandomir, Rus, Lubelsk, Belzk, Volynia, and Kieff have surrendered to Karl Gustav. The act is already signed by envoys and by Karl."

The starosta shook his head, and turned to Kmita, —

"See," said he, "do you still think that the man will be found who will not spare his soul for the love of truth?"

Kmita began to tear the hair from his forelock: "Despair! despair!" repeated he, in distraction.

And Pan Shchebjytski continued: "They say also that the remnants of the army, which are with Pototski, the hetman, have already refused obedience and wish to go to the Swedes. The hetman probably is not sure of safety or life among them, and must do what they want."

"They sow rebellion and reap suffering and pain," said the starosta. "Whoso wishes to do penance for his sins, now is his time!"

Kmita could not hear further either prophecies or news; he wanted to sit with all speed on his horse and cool his head in the wind. He sprang up therefore, and began to take farewell of the starosta.

"But whither so hastily?" asked the latter.

"To Chenstohova, for I too am a sinner!"

"Though glad to entertain, I will not delay you, since your work is more urgent, for the day of judgment is at hand."

Kmita went out; and after him went the young lady, wishing instead of her father to do honor to the guest, for the old man was weak on his feet.

"Be in good health, young lady," said Kmita; "you do not know how thankful I am to you."

"If you are thankful to me," answered the young lady, "do me one service. You are going to Chenstohova; here is a ruddy ducat, — take it, I beg, and give it for a Mass in the chapel."