“Only let them not like! only let them try not to like,” said Kmita, gritting his teeth at the very thought, “as there are four hundred, or whatever number there is of them, I’ll have all four hundred hanged—there will be no lack of trees! Just let them try to rebel against me.” “Yandrek!” cried the king, falling into good humor and pursing his lips, “as God is dear to me, I cannot find a better shepherd for those lambs! Take them and lead them wherever it pleases thee most.” “I give thanks, Gracious Lord!” said the knight, pressing the knees of the king. “When do you wish to start?” asked Yan Kazimir. “God willing, to-morrow.” “Maybe Akbah Ulan will not be ready, because his horses are road-weary.” “Then I will have him lashed to a saddle with a lariat, and he will go on foot if he spares his horse.” “I see that you will get on with him. Still use mild measures while possible. But now, Yendrek, it is late; to-morrow I wish to see you again. Meanwhile take this ring, tell your royalist lady that you have it from the king, and tell her that the king commands her to love firmly his faithful servant and defender.” “God grant me,” said the young hero, with tears in his eyes, “not to die save in defence of your Royal Grace!” Here the king withdrew, for it was already late; and Kmita went to his own quarters to prepare for the road, and think what to begin, and whither he ought to go first. He remembered the words of Kharlamp, that should it appear that Boguslav was not in Taurogi it would really be better to leave the maiden there, for from Taurogi being near the boundary, it was easy to take refuge in Tyltsa, under care of the elector. Moreover, though the Swedes had abandoned in his last need the voevoda of Vilna, it was reasonable to expect that they would have regard for his widow; hence, if Olenka was under her care, no evil could meet her. If they had gone to Courland, that was still better. “And to Courland I cannot go with my Tartars,” said Kmita to himself, “for that is another State.” He walked then, and worked with his head. Hour followed hour, but he did not think yet of rest; and the thought of his new expedition so cheered him, that though that day he was weak in the morning, he felt now that his strength was returning, and he was ready to mount in a moment. The servants at last had finished tying the saddle-straps and were preparing to sleep, when all at once some one began to scratch at the door of the room. “Who is there?” asked Kmita. Then to his attendant, “Go and see!” He went, and after he had spoken to some one outside the door, he returned. “Some soldier wants to see your grace greatly. He says that his name is Soroka.” “By the dear God! let him in,” called Kmita. And without waiting for the attendant to carry out the order, he sprang to the door. “Come in, dear Soroka! come hither!”