“Worthy colonel, in the straits in which you are I cannot help you; but give me your hand, I pray.” Kmita raised his head and began to snort. “I will not give a hand to traitors who serve against their country!” Zbrojek’s face flushed. Kalinski, who stood right behind him, withdrew. The Swedish officers surrounded them at once, asking what man this Kmita was whose name had made such an impression. During this time Kuklinovski had squeezed Miller up to the window, and said,— “For your worthiness the name Kmita is nothing; but he is the first soldier, the first colonel, in the whole Commonwealth. All know of him, all know that name; once he served Radzivill and the Swedes; now it is clear that he has gone over to Yan Kazimir. There is not his equal among soldiers, save me. He was the only man who could go alone and blow up that gun. From this one deed you may know him. He fought Hovanski, so that a reward was put on his head. He with two or three hundred men kept up the whole war after the defeat at Shklov, until others were found who, imitating him, began to tear at the enemy. He is the most dangerous man in all the country—” “Why do you sing his praises to me?” inquired Miller. “That he is dangerous I know to my own irreparable loss.” “What does your worthiness think of doing with him?” “I should give orders to hang him; but being a soldier myself, I know how to value daring and bravery. Besides, he is a noble of high birth,—I will order him shot, and that to-day.” “Your worthiness, it is not for me to instruct the most celebrated soldier and statesman of modern times; but I permit myself to say that that man is too famous. If you shoot him, Zbrojek’s squadron and Kalinski’s will withdraw at the latest this very day, and go over to Yan Kazimir.” “If that is true, I’ll have them cut to pieces before they go!” cried Miller. “Your worthiness, a terrible responsibility! for if that becomes known,—and the cutting down of two squadrons is hard to hide,—the whole Polish army will leave Karl Gustav; at present their loyalty is tottering, as you know. The hetmans are not reliable. Pan Konyetspolski with six thousand of the best cavalry is at the side of our king. That force is no trifle. God defend us if these too should turn against us, against the person of his Royal Grace! Besides, this fortress defends itself; and to cut down the squadrons of Zbrojek and Kalinski is no easy matter, for Wolf is here too with his infantry. They might come to an agreement with the garrison of the fortress.” “A hundred horned devils!” cried Miller; “what do you want, Kuklinovski? do you want me to give Kmita his life? That cannot be.” “I want,” answered Kuklinovski, “you to give him to me.” “What will you do with him?” “Ah, I—will tear him alive from his skin.” “You did not know even his real name, you do not know him. What have you against him?” “I made his acquaintance first in the fortress, where I have been twice as an envoy to the monks.”