But Roh began not only to prick his own horse with the spurs, but to beat him with the side of the sabre; and so they sped on one after the other. Trees, stones, willows, flashed before their eyes; the wind whistled in their ears. The king’s hat fell from his head; at last he threw down his purse, thinking that the pitiless rider might be tempted by it and leave the pursuit; but Kovalski did not look at the purse, and rolled his horse on with more and more power till the beast was groaning from effort. Roh had evidently forgotten himself altogether; for racing onward he began to shout in a voice in which besides threats there was also a prayer,— “Stop, for God’s mercy!” Then the king’s horse stumbled so violently that if the king had not held the bridle with all his power the beast would have fallen. Roh bellowed like an aurochs; the distance dividing him from Karl Gustav had decreased notably. After a while the steed stumbled a second time, and again before the king brought him to his feet Roh had approached a number of yards. Then he straightened himself in the saddle as if for a blow. He was terrible; his eyes were bursting out, his teeth were gleaming from under his reddish mustaches. One more stumble of the horse, another moment, and the fate of the Commonwealth, of all Sweden, of the entire war would have been decided. But the king’s horse began to run again; and the king, turning, showed the barrels of two pistols, and twice did he fire. One of the bullets shattered the knee of Kovalski’s horse; he reared, then fell on his forefeet, and dug the earth with his nose. The king might have rushed that moment on his pursuer and thrust him through with his rapier; but at the distance of two hundred yards other Polish horsemen were flying forward; so he bent down again in his saddle, and shot on like an arrow propelled from the bow of a Tartar. Kovalski freed himself from his horse. He looked for a while unconsciously at the fleeing man, then staggered like one drunk, sat on the road, and began to roar like a bear. But the king was each instant farther, farther, farther! He began to diminish, to melt, and then vanished in the dark belt of pine scrub. Meanwhile, with shouting and roaring, came on Kovalski’s companions. There were fifteen of them whose horses held out. One brought the king’s purse, another his hat, on which black ostrich feathers were fastened with diamonds. These two began to cry out,— “These are yours, comrade! they belong to you of right.” Others asked: “Do you know whom you were chasing? That was Karl himself.” “As God is true! In his life he has never fled before any man as before you. You have covered yourself with immense glory!” “And how many men did you put down before you came up with the king?” “You lacked only little of freeing the Commonwealth in one flash, with your sabre.” “Take the purse!” “Take the hat!” “The horse was good, but you can buy ten such with these treasures.”