"I go, but I shall preserve my gratitude. It is rare to find such honest people as in Patsuneli. Are you always afraid of this Kmita?" "Of course. Mothers frighten their children with him as with a werewolf." "He will not come back, and even if he should he will not have with him those wild fellows, who, judging from what people say, were worse than he. It is a pity indeed that such a good soldier stained his reputation and lost his property." "And the lady." "And the lady. They say much good in her favor." "Poor thing! for whole days she just cries and cries." "H'm!" said Volodyovski; "but is she not crying for Kmita?" "Who knows?" replied Marysia. "So much the worse for her, for he will not come back. The hetman sent home a part of the Lauda men, and those forces are here now. We wanted to cut him down at once without the court. He must know that the Lauda men have returned, and he will not show even his nose." "Likely our men must march again," said Terka, "for they received only leave to come home for a short time." "Eh!" said Volodyovski, "the hetman let them come, for there is no money in the treasury. It is pure despair! When people are most needed they have to be sent away. But good-night! it is time to sleep, and let none of you dream of Pan Kmita with a fiery sword." Volodyovski rose from the bench and prepared to leave the room, but had barely made a step toward the closet when suddenly there was a noise in the entrance and a shrill voice began to cry outside the door-- "Hei there! For God's mercy! open quickly, quickly!" The girls were terribly frightened. Volodyovski sprang for his sabre to the closet, but had not been able to get it when Terka opened the door. An unknown man burst into the room and threw himself at the feet of the knight. "Rescue, serene Colonel!--The lady is carried away!" "What lady?" "In Vodokty." "Kmita!" cried Volodyovski. "Kmita!" screamed the girls. "Kmita!" repeated the messenger. "Who art thou?" asked Volodyovski. "The manager in Vodokty." "We know him," said Terka; "he brought herbs for you." Meanwhile the drowsy old Gashtovt came forth from behind the stove, and in the door appeared two attendants of Pan Volodyovski whom the uproar had drawn to the room. "Saddle the horses!" cried Volodyovski. "Let one of you hurry to the Butryms, the other give a horse to me!" "I have been already at the Butryms," said the manager, "for they are nearer to us; they sent me to your grace." "When was the lady carried away?" asked Volodyovski. "Just now--the servants are fighting yet--I rushed for a horse." Old Gashtovt rubbed his eyes. "What's that? The lady carried off?" "Yes; Kmita carried her off," answered Volodyovski. "Let us go to the rescue!" Then he turned to the messenger: "Hurry to the Domasheviches; let them come with muskets."