Meanwhile the sword-bearer clapped his hands for a servant, and ordered him to bring a fourth glass; then he filled it, raised his own to his lips, and said, "Into your hands-- I am glad to see you in my house." "I should be sincerely glad were that true." "A guest is a guest," said the sword-bearer, sententiously. After awhile, conscious evidently of his duty as a host to keep up the conversation, he asked, "What do you hear at Kyedani? How is the health of the hetman?" "Not strong," answered Kmita, "and in these unquiet times it cannot be otherwise. The prince has a world of troubles and annoyances." "I believe that!" said Pan Hudzynski. Kmita looked at him for a while, then turned to the host and continued,-- "The prince, being promised assistance by the Swedish King, expected to move against the enemy at Vilna without delay, and take vengeance for the ashes of that place, which have not yet grown cold. And it must be known also to you that now it is necessary to search for Vilna in Vilna, for it was burning seventeen days. They say that nothing is visible among the ruins but the black holes of cellars from which smoke is still rising continually." "Misfortune!" said the sword-bearer. "Of course a misfortune, which if it could not have been prevented should be avenged and similar ruins made of the enemy's capital. In fact, it was coming to this when disturbers, suspecting the best intentions of an honorable man, proclaimed him a traitor, and resisted him in arms instead of aiding him against the enemy. It is not to be wondered, therefore, that the health of the prince totters, since he, whom God predestined to great things, sees that the malice of man is ever preparing new obstacles through which the entire undertaking may come to naught. The best friends of the prince have deceived him; those on whom he counted most have left him, or gone to the enemy." "So it is," said the sword-bearer, seriously. "That is very painful," continued Kmita, "and I myself have heard the prince say, 'I know that honorable men pass evil judgments on me; but why do they not come to Kyedani, why do they not tell me to my face what they have against me, and listen to my reasons?'" "Whom has the prince in mind?" asked the sword-bearer. "In the first rank you, my benefactor, for whom he has a genuine regard, and he suspects that you belong to the enemy." The sword-bearer began to smooth his forelock quickly. At last, seeing that the conversation was taking an undesirable turn, he clapped his hands. A servant appeared in the doorway. "Seest not that it is growing dark? Bring lights!" cried Pan Tomash. "God sees," continued Kmita, "that I had intended to lay before you proper assurances of my own devotion separately, but I have come here also at the order of the prince, who would have come in person to Billeviche if the time were more favoring." "Our thresholds are too lowly," said the sword-bearer.