After a while all collected at the main door, and soon the news that Kmita wanted to blow himself up with powder spread on every side. They were as if petrified with terror. Meanwhile Volodyovski raised his voice and said amid silence like that of the grave,-- "I take you all present here to witness that I have challenged Pan Kmita, the banneret of Orsha, to a duel, and I have promised that if he puts me down he shall go hence in freedom, without obstacle from you; to this you must swear on your sword-hilts, in the name of God and the holy cross--" "But wait!" cried Kmita,--"in freedom with all my men, and I take the lady with me." "The lady will remain here," answered Volodyovski, "and the men will go as prisoners to the nobles." "That cannot be." "Then blow yourself up with powder! We have already mourned for her; as to the men, ask them what they prefer." Silence followed. "Let it be so," said Kmita, after a time. "If I do not take her to-day, I will in a month. You will not hide her under the ground! Take the oath!" "Take the oath!" repeated Volodyovski. "We swear by the Most High God and the Holy Cross. Amen!" "Well, come out, come out!" cried Volodyovski. "You are in a hurry to the other world?" "No matter, no matter, only come out quickly." The iron bars holding the door on the inside began to groan. Volodyovski pushed back, and with him the nobles, to make room. Soon the door opened, and in it appeared Pan Andrei, tall, straight as a poplar. The dawn was already coming, and the first pale light of day fell on his daring, knightly, and youthful face. He stopped in the door, looked boldly on the crowd of nobles, and said,-- "I have trusted in you. God knows whether I have done well, but let that go. Who here is Pan Volodyovski?" The little colonel stepped forward. "I am!" answered he. "Oh! you are not like a giant," said Kmita, with sarcastic reference to Volodyovski's stature, "I expected to find a more considerable figure, though I must confess you are evidently a soldier of experience." "I cannot say the same of you, for you have neglected sentries. If you are the same at the sabre as at command, I shall not have work." "Where shall we fight?" asked Kmita, quickly. "Here,--the yard is as level as a table." "Agreed! Prepare for death." "Are you so sure?"