Here, before the eyes of all, the voevoda of Poznan turned to Radzeyovski and embraced him heartily; then he embraced Wirtz; then all began to embrace one another. The nobles followed the example of the dignitaries, and joy became universal. They gave vivats so loud that the echoes thundered throughout the whole region. But the voevoda of Poznan begged yet the beloved brotherhood for a moment of quiet, and said in a tone of cordiality,-- "Gracious gentlemen! General Wittemberg invites us today to a feast in his camp, so that at the goblets a brotherly alliance may be concluded with a manful people." "Vivat Wittemberg! vivat! vivat! vivat!" "And after that, gracious gentlemen," added the voevoda, "let us go to our homes, and with the assistance of God let us begin the harvest with the thought that on this day we have saved the fatherland." "Coming ages will render us justice," said Radzeyovski. "Amen!" finished the voevoda of Poznan. Meanwhile he saw that the eyes of many nobles were gazing at and scanning something above his head. He turned and saw his own jester, who, holding with one hand to the frame above the door, was writing with a coal on the wall of the council-house over the door: "Mene Tekel-Peres."[15] In the world the heavens were covered with clouds, and a tempest was coming. CHAPTER XII. In the district of Lukovo, on the edge of Podlyasye, stood the village of Bujets, owned by the Skshetuskis. In a garden between the mansion and a pond an old man was sitting on a bench; and at his feet were two little boys,--one five, the other four years old,--dark and sunburned as gypsies, but rosy and healthy. The old man, still fresh, seemed as sturdy as an aurochs. Age had not bent his broad shoulders; from his eyes--or rather from his eye, for he had one covered with a cataract--beamed health and good-humor; he had a white beard, but a look of strength and a ruddy face, ornamented on the forehead with a broad scar, through which his skull-bone was visible. The little boys, holding the straps of his boot-leg, were pulling in opposite directions; but he was gazing at the pond, which gleamed with the rays of the sun,--at the pond, in which fish were springing up frequently, breaking the smooth surface of the water. "The fish are dancing," muttered he to himself. "Never fear, ye will dance still better when the floodgate is open, or when the cook is scratching you with a knife." Then he turned to the little boys: "Get away from my boot-leg, for when I catch one of your ears, I'll pull it off. Just like mad horse-flies! Go and roll balls there on the grass and let me alone! I do not wonder at Longinek, for he is young; but Yaremka ought to have sense by this time. Ah, torments! I'll take one of you and throw him into the pond."