"I implore your highness," said Kmita, carried away, "that not a hair fall from Volodyovski. Forgive me, I implore. Volodyovski had the power not to deliver to me the commission, for it was sent to him and left at his disposal. But he gave it. He plucked me out of the whirlpool. Through that act of his I passed into the jurisdiction of your highness. He did not hesitate to save me, though he and I were trying to win the same woman. I owe him gratitude, and I have vowed to repay him. Your highness, grant for my sake that no punishment touch him or his friends. A hair should not fall from the head of either of them, and as God is true, it will not fall while I live. I implore your highness." Pan Andrei entreated and clasped his hands, but his words were ringing with anger, threats, and indignation. His unrestrained nature gained the upper hand, and he stood above Radzivill with flashing eyes and a visage like the head of an angry bird of prey. The hetman too had a storm in his face. Before his iron will and despotism everything hitherto in Lithuania and Russia had bent. No one had ever dared to oppose him, no one to beg mercy for those once condemned; but now Kmita's entreating was merely for show, in reality he presented demands; and the position was such that it was impossible to refuse him. At the very beginning of his career of treason, the despot felt that he would have to yield more than once to the despotism of men and circumstances, and would be dependent on adherents of far less importance than this one; that Kmita, whom he wished to turn into a faithful dog, would be rather a captive wolf, ready when angry to bite its master's hand. All this roused the proud blood of Radzivill. He resolved to resist, for his inborn terrible vengefulness urged him to that. "Volodyovski and the other three must lose their heads," said he, with a loud voice. But to speak thus was to throw powder on fire. "If I had not dispersed the Hungarians, these are not the men who had lost their heads," shouted Kmita. "How is this? Are you renouncing my service already?" asked the hetman, threateningly. "Your highness," answered Pan Andrei, with passion, "I am not renouncing; I am begging, imploring. But the harm will not happen. These men are famous in all Poland. It cannot be, it cannot be! I will not be a Judas to Volodyovski. I will follow your highness into fire, but refuse not this favor." "But if I refuse?" "Then give command to shoot me; I will not live! May thunderbolts split me! May devils take me living to hell!" "Remember, unfortunate, before whom you are speaking." "Bring me not to desperation, your highness." "To a prayer I may give ear, but a threat I will not consider." "I beg,--I implore." Here Pan Andrei threw himself on his knees. "Permit me, your highness, to serve you not from constraint, but with my heart, or I shall go mad."