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not expose himself to the hetmans, of whose defeat he could not have known at that time. If he divided his Cossacks and pursued in two directions, I tell you that he was pursuing no one but her.”

“And why did he inquire for an old noble and a young Cossack?”

“No great sagacity is needed to guess that. If she fled, she was not in woman’s dress, but surely in disguise, so as not to be discovered. It is my opinion, then, that that Cossack is she.”

“Sure as life, sure as life!” repeated the others.

“Well, but who is the noble?”

“I don’t know that,” replied the old man, “but we can ask about it. The peasants must have seen who was here and what happened. Let’s have the man of this cottage brought in.”

The officers hurried, and brought by the shoulder a “sub-neighbor” from the cow-house.

“Well, fellow,” said Zatsvilikhovski, “were you here when the Cossacks with Bogun attacked the castle?”

The peasant, as was customary, began to swear that he had not been present, that he had not seen anything, did not know anything. But Zatsvilikhovski knew with whom he had to deal; therefore he said⁠—

“Oh, I know, you son of a Pagan, that you were right here when they plundered the place. Lie to someone else. Here is a gold ducat for you, and there is a soldier with a sword. Take your choice. Besides, if you do not tell, we will burn the village, and harm will come to poor people through you.”

Then the “sub-neighbor” began to tell of what he had seen. When the Cossacks fell to revelling on the square before the house, he went with others to see what was going on. They heard that the old princess and her sons were killed, but that Nikolai had wounded the ataman, who lay as if lifeless. What happened to the young woman they could not discover; but at daybreak next morning they heard that she had escaped with a noble who had come with Bogun.

“That’s it! that’s it!” said Zatsvilikhovski. “Here is your gold ducat. You see that no harm has come to you. And did you or anyone in the neighborhood see that noble?”

“I saw him; but he was not from this place.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was as big as a stove, with a gray beard, and swore like a minstrel; blind of one eye.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” said Pan Longin, “that must be Pan Zagloba.”

“Zagloba, who else!”

“Zagloba? Wait!⁠—Zagloba?⁠—maybe it is. He kept company with Bogun in Chigirin⁠—drank and played dice with him. Maybe it is he. The description fits him.”

Here Zatsvilikhovski turned again to the peasant.

“And that noble fled with the young lady?”

“Yes; so we heard.”

“Do you know Bogun well?”

“Oh, very well! He used to be here for months at a time.”

“But maybe that noble took her away for Bogun?”

“No; how could he do that? He bound Bogun⁠—tied him up with his coat⁠—then, they say, carried off the young lady as far as the eye of people could see. The ataman howled like a werewolf, and before daylight had himself bound between horses, and rushed off toward Lubni, but did not find them; then he rushed in another direction.”

“Praise be to God!” said Migurski; “she may be in Lubni. That he hurried in the direction of Cherkasi is nothing; not finding her in one place, he tried in another.”

Pan Yan was already on his knees, praying fervently.

“Well, well,” said the old standard-bearer, “I did not think there was such mettle in Zagloba that he would dare to attack such a hero as Bogun. True, he was very friendly to Skshetuski for the triple mead of Lubni which we drank in Chigirin, He mentioned it to me more than once, and called him a distinguished cavalier. Well, well, this cannot find a place yet in my head, for he drank up no small amount of Bogun’s money. But that he should bind Bogun and carry off the lady! I did not expect such a daring deed from him, for I held him a squabbler and a coward. Cunning he is, but a tremendous exaggerator; and all the bravery of such people is generally on their lips.”

“Let him be as he likes; it is enough that he has snatched the princess from the hands of robbers,” said Volodyovski. “And since, as is evident, he has no lack of stratagems, he has surely fled with her in such fashion as to be safe from the enemy himself.”

“His own life depended on that,” said Migurski.

Then they turned to Pan Yan and said: “Comfort yourself, dear comrade; we shall all be your best men yet!”

“And drink at the wedding.”

Zatsvilikhovski added: “If he fled beyond the Dnieper and heard of the defeat at Korsún, he was obliged to return to Chernigoff, and in that case we shall come up to him on the road.”

“Here is to the happy conclusion of all the troubles and sufferings of our friend!” called out Sleshinski.

They began to raise their glasses to the health of Pan Yan, the princess, their future descendants, and Zagloba. Thus passed the night. At daybreak the march was sounded, and the forces moved for Lubni.

The journey was made quickly, for the troops of the prince went without a train. Pan Yan wished to gallop ahead with the Tartar regiment, but was too weak. Besides, Prince Yeremi kept him near his own person, for he wished to hear the account of his mission to the Saitch. The knight was obliged, therefore, to give an account of how he had travelled, how they attacked him at Hortitsa and dragged him into the Saitch, but was silent concerning his disputes with Hmelnitski, lest it might seem that he was praising himself. The prince was affected most by the news that old Grodzitski had no powder, and therefore could not defend himself long.

“That is an unspeakable loss,” said he, “for that fortress might cause great damage and hindrance to the rebellion. Grodzitski is a famous man,

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