Pagina 452 de 788

That crazy Count, I hear, has rushed away to Dobrzyn; I could not

head him off, for an important reason: old Maciek has recognised

me, and if he betrays me I must needs bow my neck beneath the

penknife. Nothing will restrain the Warden! My life matters

little, but by that disclosure I should destroy the foundations

of the plot.

"And yet! I must be there to-day, and see what is going on,

though I perish! Without me the gentry will run wild! Farewell,

my dearest brother! Farewell, I must hasten. If I perish, you

alone will sigh for my soul; in case of war, the whole secret is

known to you-finish what I have begun, and remember that you are

a Soplica."

Here the Monk wiped away his tears, buttoned his gown, drew on

his cowl, and quietly opened the shutters of the rear window;

evidently he jumped through the window into the garden. The

Judge, left alone, sat down in a chair and began to weep.