Kmita was somewhat confused, and began to throw up his hatchet. “I was,” answered he. “Give peace to your hatchet,” said Tyzenhauz. “And what were you doing at the prince’s house?” “I was a guest,” answered Kmita, impatiently, “and I ate his bread, until I was disgusted with his treason.” “And why did you not go with other honorable soldiers to Pan Sapyeha?” “Because I had made a vow to go to Chenstohova, which you will more easily understand when I tell you that our Ostra Brama was occupied by the Northerners.” Tyzenhauz began to shake his head and smack his lips; this attracted the attention of the king, so that he looked inquiringly at Kmita. The latter, made impatient, turned to Tyzenhauz and said,— “My worthy sir! Why do I not inquire of you where you have been, and what you have been doing?” “Ask me,” replied Tyzenhauz; “I have nothing to conceal.” “Neither am I before a court; and if I shall ever be, you will not be my judge. Leave me, then, that I lose not my patience.” When he had said this, he hurled the hatchet so sharply that it grew small in the height; the king raised his eyes after it, and at that moment he was thinking of nothing save this, would Babinich catch it in its fall, or would he not catch it? Babinich put spurs to his horse, sprang forward, and caught it. That same evening Tyzenhauz said to the king,— “Gracious Lord, this noble pleases me less and less.” “But me more and more,” answered the king, pursing his lips. “I heard to-day one of his people call him colonel; he only looked threateningly, and straightway confused the man. There is something in that.” “And it seems to me sometimes that he does not wish to tell everything,” added the king; “but that is his affair.” “No, Gracious Lord,” exclaimed Tyzenhauz, forcibly, “it is not his affair, it is our affair, and that of the whole Commonwealth. For if he is some traitor who is planning the death or captivity of your Royal Grace, then with your person will perish all those who at this moment have taken arms; the whole Commonwealth will perish, which you alone are competent to save.” “I will ask him myself to-morrow.” “God grant that I be a false prophet, but nothing good looks out of his eyes. He is too smart, too bold, too daring; and such people are ready for anything.” The king looked troubled. Next morning, when they moved on their journey, he beckoned Kmita to approach him. “Where were you, Colonel?” asked the king, suddenly. A moment of silence followed.