crowd, when, fortunately, Zosia, seeing the
assault, leapt up, and, filled with pity, sheltered the old man by
extending her arms like a cross. They checked themselves; Gerwazy slowly
retired and vanished from sight; they looked to see where he had hidden
himself beneath the table, when suddenly he came out on the other side as
if from under the earth, and, raising aloft a bench in his strong arms,
whirled round like a windmill and cleared half the hall. He seized the
Count, and thus both, sheltered by the bench, retired towards the little
door; when they were already almost at the threshold, Gerwazy stopped,
once more eyed his foes, and deliberated for an instant, whether to retire
under arms, or with new weapons to seek fortune in war. He chose the
second; already he had swung back the bench for a blow, like a
battering-ram; already, with head bent down, breast thrust forward, and
foot uplifted, he was about to attack--when he caught sight of the
Seneschal, and felt terror in his heart.

The Seneschal, sitting quietly, with half-closed eyes, had seemed buried
in deep thought; only when the Count had bandied words with the
Chamberlain and threatened the Judge, the Seneschal had turned his head,
had twice taken a pinch of snuff and rubbed his eyes. Although the
Seneschal was only a distant relative of the Judge, yet he was established
in his hospitable house, and was beyond measure careful about the health
of his friend. Therefore he gazed with curiosity at the combat, and slowly
extended on the table his arm, hand, and fingers; on his palm he laid a
knife, with the haft extended to the tip of the index finger, and the
point turned towards his elbow; then with his arm extended a trifle
backward he poised it as if playing with it--but he watched the Count.

The art of throwing knives, terrible in hand to hand combat, had at that
time already fallen into disuse in Lithuania, and was familiar only to old
men; the Warden had tried it often in tavern quarrels, and the Seneschal
was expert at it. From the motion of his arm one could see that he would
hit hard, and from his eyes one could easily guess that he was aiming at
the Count (the last of the Horeszkos, although in the female line); the
young men, less observant, did not understand the motions of the old
Seneschal, but Gerwazy turned pale, shielded the Count with the bench, and
withdrew towards the door.--"Catch him!" shouted the crowd.

As a wolf when surprised over i