At the alarm the servants and the castle physicians ran in. They tried to restore the prince, who had lost consciousness. They roused him in about an hour; and when he showed signs of life Kmita left the room. In the corridor he met Kharlamp, who had recovered from the wounds and bruises received in the battle with Oskyerko's insurgent Hungarians. "What news?" asked Great Mustache. "He has come to himself," answered Kmita. "H'm! But any day he may not come! Bad for us, Colonel; for when the prince dies they will grind out his deeds on us. My whole hope is in Volodyovski. I trust that he will shield his old comrades; therefore I tell you" (here Kharlamp lowered his voice) "that I am glad he escaped." "Was he cornered so closely, then?" "What, cornered! From that willow grove in which we surrounded him wolves could not have sprung out, and he sprang out. May the bullets strike him! Who knows, who knows that we shall not have to grasp hold of his skirts, for there is something bad about us here. The nobles are turning away terribly from our prince, and all say that they would rather have a real enemy, a Swede, even a Tartar, than a renegade. That is the position. And, besides, the prince gives more and more orders to seize and imprison citizens,--which, speaking between us, is against law and liberty. To-day they brought in the sword-bearer of Rossyeni." "Have they indeed?" "Yes, with his niece. The lady is a beauty. You are to be congratulated!" "Where are they lodged?" "In the right wing. Five rooms are assigned them; they cannot complain, unless of this,--that a guard walks before their doors. And when will the wedding be, Colonel?" "The music is not yet engaged for it. Farewell!" added Kmita.