"It is a wonder to me," replied Kmita, "that your highness takes such thought in advance for my safety. A great person a Radzivill! Still I have only to touch a trigger." "I do not deny that. More than once it has happened in the world that a great man died at the hands of a common one. A camp-follower killed Pompey; French kings perished at the hands of low people. Without going farther, the same thing happened to my great father. But I ask you what will come next?" "What is that to me? I have never taken much thought of what will be to-morrow. If it comes to close quarters with all the Radzivills, God knows who will be warmed up best. The sword has been long hanging over my head, but the moment I close my eyes I sleep as sweetly as a suslik. And if one Radzivill is not enough for me, I will carry off a second, and a third." "As God is dear to me, Cavalier, you please me much; for I repeat that you alone in Europe could dare a deed like this. The beast does not care, nor mind what will come to-morrow. I love daring people, and there are fewer and fewer of them in the world. Just think! he has carried off a Radzivill and holds him as his own. Where were you reared in this fashion, Cavalier? Whence do you come?" "I am banneret of Orsha." "Pan Banneret of Orsha, I grieve that the Radzivills are losing a man like you, for with such men much might be done. If it were not a question of myself--h'm! I would spare nothing to win you." "Too late!" said Kmita. "That is to be understood," answered the prince. "Much too late! But I tell you beforehand that I will order you only to be shot, for you are worthy to die a soldier's death. What an incarnate devil to carry me off from the midst of my men!" Kmita made no answer; the prince meditated awhile, then cried,-- "If you free me at once, I will not take vengeance. Only give me your word that you will tell no one of this, and command your men to be silent." "Impossible!" replied Kmita. "Do you want a ransom?" "I do not." "What the devil, then, did you carry me off for? I cannot understand it." "It would take a long time to tell. I will tell your highness later." "But what have we to do on the road unless to talk? Acknowledge, Cavalier, one thing: you carried me off in a moment of anger and desperation, and now you don't know well what to do with me." "That is my affair!" answered Kmita; "and if I do not know what to do, it will soon be seen." Impatience was depicted on Prince Boguslav's face. "You are not over-communicative, Pan Banneret of Orsha; but answer me one question at least sincerely: Did you come to me, to Podlyasye, with a plan already formed of attacking my person, or did it enter your head in the last moment?"