And now, behold, Metelitza is pierced by a spear! and there falls the head of the second Pissarenko, rolling and quivering its eyelids; there falls heavily Okhrim Gooska, brought down and hewn into four pieces. "'Tis well!" said Tarass, and waved his handkerchief. Ostap understood the signal, and darting out of his ambuscade, furiously attacked the cavalry. The Poles could not withstand his impetuous attack, gave way; and were driven straight towards the spot where the ground was strewn with broken spears and stakes. The horses stumbled and fell at every step, and their riders were thrown over their heads. Just then, the Korsoonskoï kooren which stood behind the remotest waggons, seeing the enemy within gunshot, sent them a volley of musketry. The Poles lost all presence of mind--the Cossacks regained courage. "The victory is ours!" shouted the Zaporoghians on all sides; the trumpets sounded; the victory banner was hoisted. Everywhere the discomfited Poles were to be seen flying and concealing themselves. "_Not_ yet! the victory is not yet ours!" said Tarass, looking towards the town gate; and truly did he say so. The gate was thrown open, and out flew the hussar regiment, the choicest of all the Polish cavalry. All the riders were mounted on chestnut steeds, all equally fine. In front rode a knight, the finest and most spirited of them all; black curls waved from beneath his brass helmet; a costly scarf, embroidered by the fairest beauty, fluttered round his arm. Tarass was astounded at recognising in him Andrew! Meanwhile, Andrew, entirely given up to the heat and excitement of the battle, and fervently anxious to deserve the token tied upon his arm, flew like a young greyhound, the finest, swiftest, and youngest of all the pack; the experienced huntsman has hallooed to, and there it flies, its legs stretched in a straight line through the air, its body drawn a little on one side, puffing up the snow, and in the heat of its race, ten times outstripping the hare. Old Tarass remained standing and watching how he cleared his way, drove back those before him, cutting and hewing on each side. Tarass could refrain no longer, and exclaimed, "How? thine own comrades? thy brothers? devil's son, dost thou hew them?" But Andrew saw not who was before him, whether his comrades or others. He saw nothing but ringlets, long, long ringlets, a bosom white as a swan's, a snow-like neck and shoulders, and all that is created for frantic kisses.