The two troopers reined in their horses and began to look around for the sergeant. He clattered up in a moment, looked, and said: “That is some hound from the Polish kennel.” “Shall I shout at him?” “Shout not; there may be more of them. Go to the colonel.” Meanwhile the rest of the advance guard rode up, and all halted; the small horseman halted too, and turned the face of his steed to the Swedes as if wishing to block the road to them. For a certain time they looked at him and he at them. “There is another! a second! a third! a fourth! a whole party!” were the sudden cries in the Swedish ranks. In fact, horsemen began to pour out from both sides of the road; at first singly, then by twos, by threes. All took their places in line with him who had appeared first. But the second Swedish guard with Sweno, and then the whole detachment with Kanneberg, came up. Kanneberg and Sweno rode to the front at once. “I know those men!” cried Sweno, when he had barely seen them; “their squadron was the first to strike on Prince Waldemar at Golamb; those are Charnyetski’s men. He must be here himself!” These words produced an impression; deep silence followed in the ranks, only the horses shook their bridle-bits. “I sniff some ambush,” continued Sweno. “There are too few of them to meet us, but there must be others hidden in the woods.” He turned here to Kanneberg: “Your worthiness, let us return.” “You give good counsel,” answered the colonel, frowning. “It was not worth while to set out if we must return at sight of a few ragged fellows. Why did we not return at sight of one? Forward!” The first Swedish rank moved at that moment with the greatest regularity; after it the second, the third, the fourth. The distance between the two detachments was becoming less. “Cock your muskets!” commanded Kanneberg. The Swedish muskets moved like one; their iron necks were stretched toward the Polish horsemen. But before the muskets thundered, the Polish horsemen turned their horses and began to flee in a disorderly group. “Forward!” cried Kanneberg. The division moved forward on a gallop, so that the ground trembled under the heavy hoofs of the horses. The forest was filled with the shouts of pursuers and pursued. After half an hour of chasing, either because the Swedish horses were better, or those of the Poles were wearied by some journey, the distance between the two bodies was decreasing. But at once something wonderful happened. The Polish band, at first disorderly, did not scatter more and more as the flight continued, but on the contrary, they fled in ever better order, in ranks growing more even, as if the very speed of the horses brought the riders into line. Sweno saw this, urged on his horse, reached Kanneberg, and called out,— “Your worthiness, that is an uncommon party; those are regular soldiers, fleeing designedly and leading us to an ambush.” “Will there be devils in the ambush, or men?” asked Kanneberg.