The unquiet and gloomy humor of the whole banquet irritated him in the highest degree. It was simply unendurable. The banquet became more gloomy every moment. It seemed to those present that they were feasting under a leaden roof resting on their heads. At that time a new guest entered the hall. The prince, seeing him, exclaimed,-- "That is Pan Suhanyets, from Cousin Boguslav! Surely with letters!" The newly arrived bowed profoundly. "True, Most Serene Prince, I come straight from Podlyasye." "But give me the letters, and sit at the table yourself. The worthy guests will pardon me if I do not defer the reading, though we are sitting at a banquet, for there may be news which I shall need to impart to you. Sir Marshal, pray think of the welcome envoy there." Speaking thus, he took from the hands of Pan Suhanyets a package of letters, and broke the seal of the first in haste. All present fixed curious eyes on his face, and tried to divine the substance of the letter. The first letter did not seem to announce anything favorable, for the face of the prince was filled with blood, and his eyes gleamed with wild anger. "Brothers!" said the hetman, "Prince Boguslav reports to me that those men who have chosen to form a confederation rather than march against the enemy at Vilna, are ravaging at this moment my villages in Podlyasye. It is easier of course to wage war with peasant women in villages. Worthy knights, there is no denying that!--Never mind! Their reward will not miss them." Then he took the second letter, but had barely cast his eyes on it when his face brightened with a smile of triumph and delight,-- "The province of Syeradz has yielded to the Swedes!" cried he, "and following Great Poland, has accepted the protection of Karl Gustav." And after a while another,-- "This is the latest dispatch. Good for us, worthy gentlemen, Yan Kazimir is beaten at Vidava and Jarnov. The army is leaving him! He is retreating on Cracow; the Swedes are pursuing. My cousin writes that Cracow too must fall." "Let us rejoice, gracious gentlemen," said Shchanyetski, with a strange voice. "Yes, let us rejoice!" repeated the hetman, without noticing the tone in which Shchanyetski had spoken. And delight issued from the whole person of the prince, his face became in one moment as it were younger, his eyes gained lustre; with hands trembling from happiness, he broke the seal of the last letter, looked, became all radiant as the sun, and cried,-- "Warsaw is taken! Long life to Karl Gustav!"