rienced in war, he spoke clearly and gave reasons so convincing that they might have satisfied any man. Both listened carefully. Skirvoillo moved his brows from time to time, as if in sign of agreement, and muttered: "He speaks justly." At last he pushed in his immense head between his broad shoulders, so that he seemed altogether a humpback, and fell to thinking deeply.
After a certain time he rose, and, without saying more, began to take leave.
"But, prince, how is it to be?" inquired Matsko. "Whither are we to go? "
"To New Kovno," answered Skirvoillo, briefly.
And he passed out of the hut.
Matsko and Hlava looked for some time at Zbyshko in astonishment, then the old knight struck his palms on his thighs and cried,—
"Tfu! Just like a log! That is as if a man were to listen and listen and never hear anything but his own thought. It is too bad to wear one's lips out on—"
"I have heard that he is that kind of man," said Zbyshko, "and to tell the truth, all people here are stubborn as few are. They listen to another man's opinions and then act as if he had blown against the wind."
"But why did he consult us? "
"We are belted knights, and he did it to consider the two sides. But he is not stupid."
"At New Kovno perhaps they expect us less than at any place," remarked Hlava, "for this very reason, that just now they have beaten you. In this he is right."
"Let us go, then, to look at those men I lead," said Zbyshko, who felt stifled in the tent; "I must tell them to be ready."
And they went out. Night had fallen, a night dark and cloudy, lighted only by camp fires, at which Jmud men were sitting.
