"You are free," said Volodyovski, at once; "and while we are alive none of us will attack you. What a desperate man you are, not to show us that letter immediately! We would not have disturbed you." Here he turned to the soldiers: "Withdraw, and every man to horse!" The soldiers withdrew, and Pan Andrei remained alone in the middle of the room. He had a calm face; but it was gloomy, and he looked at the officers standing before him, not without pride. "You are free!" repeated Volodyovski; "go whithersoever you please, even to Radzivill, though it is painful to see a man of honorable blood aiding a traitor to his country." "Reflect well," answered Kmita, "for I say beforehand that I shall go nowhere else but to Radzivill." "Join us; let the thunderbolt crush that tyrant of Kyedani!" cried Zagloba. "You will be to us a friend and dear comrade; the country, your mother, will forgive your offences against her." "It is no use," said Kmita, with energy. "God will decide who serves the country better,--you who begin civil war on your own responsibility, or I, serving a lord who alone can save this ill-fated Commonwealth. Go your own way, I will go mine. It is not time to convert you, and the attempt is vain; but I tell you from the depth of my soul that you are ruining the country,--you who stand in the way of its salvation. I do not call you traitors, for I know that your intentions are honorable; but this is the position,--the country is perishing, Radzivill stretches a hand to it, and you thrust swords into that hand, and in blindness make traitors of him and all those who stand by him." "As God is true!" said Zagloba, "if I had not seen how manfully you went to meet death, I should think that terror had disturbed your mind. To whom have you given oath,--to Radzivill or Yan Kazimir, to Sweden or the Commonwealth? You have lost your wits!" "I knew that it would be vain to attempt to convert you. Farewell!" "But wait," said Zagloba; "for here is a question of importance. Tell me, did Radzivill promise that he would spare us when you interceded for us in Kyedani?" "He did," said Kmita. "You were to remain during the war in Birji." "Know now your Radzivill, who betrays not only the country, not only the king, but his own servants." When he had said this, Zagloba gave the hetman's letter to Kmita. He took it, and began to run over it with his eyes; and as he read, the blood came to his face, and a blush of shame for his own leader covered his forehead more and more. All at once he crushed the letter in his hand, and threw it on the floor. "Farewell!" said he. "Better I had perished at your hands!" and he went out of the room. "Gentlemen," said Pan Yan, after a moment's silence, "an affair with that man is difficult, for he believes in his Radzivill as a Turk in Mohammed. I thought myself, as you do, that he was serving him for profit or ambition, but that is not the case. He is not a bad man, only an erring one."