you,” said I, “but after so many misfortunes, after so long an absence from home, I should be glad to see my paternal hearth, and to settle my family affairs, which, as you know, are in a very ruinous state.”—“But have I not enough now,” said he, “for us both!”—“I should be sorry,” said I, “to be burdensome to you,—I will first go and gather the remains of my small patrimony.”—“I set out in eight days,” said he, “look at the state in which I am, see if I am able to go alone, if I am not in need of a friend to take care of me, can you abandon me?” And he began to shed tears. “Enough,” exclaimed I, “no, I will not abandon you; I will go with you.” He tenderly embraced me. Thus the very same day on which I broke the fetters with which my enemies had loaded me, friendship laid new ones on me.
In the evening I went with Wawrzecki, Zakrzewski, and Mostowski, at Samoilow's, to undergo the sad ceremony of taking the oath. Notwithstanding our remonstrance that many of us, since the partition, were
