They found him at dinner, with the most important officers. But when the envoys were announced, Lyubomirski gave orders to receive them at once; for he knew the names, since they were mentioned at that time in the whole Commonwealth. All eyes were turned on the envoys as they entered; the officers looked with especial admiration and curiosity at Pan Yan. When the marshal had greeted them courteously, he asked at once,— “Have I that famous knight before me who brought the letters from besieged Zbaraj to the king?” “I crept through,” said Pan Yan. “God grant me as many such officers as possible! I envy Pan Charnyetski nothing so much; as to the rest, I know that even my small services will not perish from the memory of men.” “And I am Zagloba,” said the old knight, pushing himself forward. Here he passed his eye around the assembly; and the marshal, as he wished to attract every one to himself, exclaimed,— “Who does not know of the man who slew Burlai, the leader of the barbarians; of the man who raised Radzivill’s army in rebellion—” “And I led Sapyeha’s army, who, if the truth is told, chose me, not him for leader,” added Zagloba. “And why did you wish, being able to have such a high office, to leave it and serve under Pan Charnyetski?” Here Zagloba’s eye gleamed at Skshetuski, and he said: “Serene great mighty marshal, from your worthiness I as well as the whole country take example how to resign ambition and self-interest for the good of the Commonwealth.” Lyubomirski blushed from satisfaction, and Zagloba, putting his hands on his hips, continued,— “Pan Charnyetski has sent us to bow to your worthiness in his name and that of the whole army, and at the same time to inform you of the considerable victory which God has permitted us to gain over Kanneberg.” “I have heard of it already,” said the marshal, dryly enough, in whom envy had now begun to move, “but gladly do I hear it again from an eyewitness.” Zagloba began at once to relate, but with certain changes, for the forces of Kanneberg grew in his mouth to two thousand men. He did not forget either to mention Sweno or himself, and how before the eyes of the king the remnant of the cavalry were cut to pieces near the river; how the wagons and three hundred men of the guards fell into the hands of the fortunate conquerors; in a word, the victory increased in his narrative to the dimensions of an unspeakable misfortune for the Swedes. All listened with attention, and so did the marshal; but he grew gloomier and gloomier, his face was chilled as if by ice, and at last he said,— “I do not deny that Charnyetski is a celebrated warrior, but still he cannot devour all the Swedes himself; something will remain for others to gulp.” “Serene great mighty lord,” answered Zagloba, “it is not Pan Charnyetski who gained the victory.” “But who?” “But Lyubomirski!”