"We have already made inspection for you. This Lyubich is a golden apple," said Ranitski. "A good stable!" cried Zend; "there are two ponies, two splendid hussar horses, a pair of Jmud horses, and a pair of Kalmuks,--all in pairs, like eyes in the head. We will look at the mares and colts to-morrow." Here Zend neighed like a horse; they wondered at his perfect imitation, and laughed. "Is there such good order here?" asked Kmita, rejoiced. "And how the cellar looks!" piped Rekuts; "resinous kegs and mouldy jugs stand like squadrons in ranks." "Praise be to God for that! let us sit down at the table." "To the table! to the table!" They had barely taken their places and filled their cups when Ranitski sprang up again: "To the health of the Under-chamberlain Billevich!" "Stupid!" answered Kmita, "how is that? You are drinking the health of a dead man." "Stupid!" repeated the others. "The health of the master!" "Your health!" "May we get good in these chambers!" Kmita cast his eyes involuntarily along the dining-hall, and he saw on the larch wood walls, blackened by age, a row of stern eyes fixed on him. Those eyes were gazing out of the old portraits of the Billeviches, hanging low, within two ells of the floor, for the wall was low. Above the portraits in a long unbroken row were fixed skulls of the aurochs, of stags, of elks, crowned with their antlers: some, blackened, were evidently very old; others were shining with whiteness. All four walls were ornamented with them. "The hunting must be splendid, for I see abundance of wild beasts," said Kmita. "We will go to-morrow or the day after. We must learn the neighborhood," answered Kokosinski. "Happy are you, Yendrus, to have a place to shelter your head!" "Not like us," groaned Ranitski. "Let us drink for our solace," said Rekuts. "No, not for our solace," answered Kulvyets-Hippocentaurus, "but once more to the health of Yendrus, our beloved captain. It is he, my mighty lords, who has given here in Lyubich an asylum to us poor exiles without a roof above our heads." "He speaks justly," cried a number of voices; "Kulvyets is not so stupid as he seems." "Hard is our lot," piped Rekuts. "Our whole hope is that you will not drive us poor orphans out through your gates." "Give us peace," said Kmita; "what is mine is yours." With that all rose from their places and began to take him by the shoulders. Tears of tenderness flowed over those stern drunken faces. "In you is all our hope, Yendrus," cried Kokosinski, "Let us sleep even on pea straw; drive us not forth." "Give us peace," repeated Kmita. "Drive us not forth; as it is, we have been driven,--we nobles and men of family," said Uhlik, plaintively. "To a hundred fiends with you, who is driving you out? Eat, drink! What the devil do you want?" "Do not deny us," said Ranitski, on whose face spots came out as on the skin of a leopard. "Do not deny us, Andrei, or we are lost altogether."