of stalks, swam
through the greenery as a fisherman dives beneath the water. He raised his
head--all was quiet--he stole up to the windows--all was quiet--through the
windows he surveyed the interior of the mansion--all was empty. He stepped
up on the porch, not without terror, and undid the latch--all was empty as
in an enchanted house; he took out his summons, and read aloud the
notification. But suddenly he heard a clatter, and felt a trembling of the
heart, and wanted to run away; when from the door there came towards him a
person--luckily well known to him! Robak! Both were surprised.

Evidently the Count had departed somewhere with all his train, and in a
great hurry, for he had left the doors open. It was evident that he had
been arming himself; on the floor lay double-barrelled muskets and
carbines, besides ramrods and gunhammers and locksmith's tools with which
they had been repairing the arms. There were also gunpowder and paper;
they had been making cartridges. Had the Count gone hunting with all his
train? But why should he take hand arms? Here lay a rusty, hiltless sabre,
there a sword with no belt; they must have been selecting weapons from
this rubbish, and have ransacked even the old armouries. Robak surveyed
with care the guns and swords, and then went out to the farmhouse to
explore, looking for servants of whom he might inquire about the Count. In
the deserted farmhouse he at length found two peasant women, from whom he
learned that the master and his whole household had departed in a body,
armed, along the road to Dobrzyn.

The hamlet of Dobrzyn has a wide reputation in Lithuania for the bravery
of its gentlemen and the beauty of its gentlewomen. It was once powerful
and populous, for when King Jan III. Sobieski had summoned the general
militia by the "twigs,"113 the ensign of the wojewodeship had led to him
from Dobrzyn alone six hundred armed gentry. The family had now grown
small and poor; formerly at the courts of the magnates or in their troops,
at forays, and at the district assemblies the Dobrzynskis used to find an
easy living. Now they were forced to work for themselves, like mere serfs,
except that they did not wear peasants' russet doublets, but long white
coats with black stripes, and on Sunday kontuszes. Also the dress of even
the poorest of their women was different from the jackets of the peasants;
they usually wore drilling or percale, herded their cattle in shoes not of
bark but of l