"By no means. The balls go higher; and from the cannon they are firing in the other direction. I will not jump down for anything." And Volodyovski, seizing the grating more firmly, drew himself entirely to the window-sill, where he did not need the shoulder of Pan Yan to hold him. In the cellar it became really dark, for the window was small and Pan Michael though slender filled it completely; but as a recompense the men below had fresh news from the field of battle every minute. "I see now!" cried Pan Michael. "The Hungarians are resting against the wall and are firing. I was afraid that they would be forced to a corner, then the cannon would destroy them in a moment. Good soldiers, as God is dear to me! Without officers, they know what is needed. There is smoke again! I see nothing--" The firing began to slacken. "O merciful God, delay not thy punishment!" cried Zagloba. "And what, Michael?" asked Yan. "The Scots are advancing to the attack!" "Oh, brimstone thunderbolts, that we must sit here!" cried Stanislav. "They are there already, the halberd-men! The Hungarians meet them with the sabre! Oh, my God! that you cannot look on. What soldiers!" "Fighting with their own and not with an enemy." "The Hungarians have the upper hand. The Scots are falling back on the left. As I love God! Myeleshko's dragoons are going over to them! The Scots are between two fires. Korf cannot use his cannon, for he would strike the Scots. I see Ganhoff uniforms among the Hungarians. They are going to attack the gate. They wish to escape. They are advancing like a storm,--breaking everything!" "How is that? I wish they would capture this castle!" cried Zagloba. "Never mind! They will come back to-morrow with the squadrons of Mirski and Stankyevich--Oh, Kharlamp is killed! No! He rises; he is wounded--they are already at the gate. What is that? Just as if the Scottish guard at the gate were coming over to the Hungarians, for they are opening the gate,--dust is rising on the outside; I see Kmita! Kmita is rushing through the gate with cavalry!" "On whose side is he, on whose side?" cried Zagloba. For a moment Pan Michael gave no answer; but very soon the clatter of weapons, shrieks, and shouts were heard with redoubled force. "It is all over with them!" cried Pan Michael, with a shrill voice. "All over with whom, with whom?" "With the Hungarians. The cavalry has broken them, is trampling them, cutting them to pieces! Their flag is in Kmita's hand! The end, the end!" When he had said this, Volodyovski dropped from the window and fell into the arms of Pan Yan.