The bridge over the river rattled with the trampling of cavalry, and a thousand voices thundered, "Down with the Soplica!" The Judge shuddered, for he recognised Gerwazy's watchword.
"This is nothing," cried the Count, "there will soon be more of us here; submit, Judge, these are my allies."
Thereupon the Assessor ran up shouting:—
"I arrest you in the name of His Imperial Majesty! Yield your sword, Count, for I shall summon the aid of the army; and you are aware, that if any one dares to make a night attack under arms, it is provided by ukaz one thousand two hundred, that as a malef—"
Thereupon the Count struck him across the face with the flat of his sword. The Assessor fell stunned, and disappeared among the nettles; all thought that he was wounded or dead.
"I see," said the Judge, "that this looks like brigandage."
Every one shrieked; all were deafened by the wailing of Zosia, who, throwing her arms around the Judge, cried like a child pricked with needles by Jews.
Meanwhile Telimena had rushed among the horses and extended her clasped hands towards the Count.
"Upon your honour!" she cried with a piercing voice, with head thrown back and with streaming hair. "By all that is holy, we implore you on our knees! Count, will you dare to refuse? Ladies beg you; savage man, you must first murder us!"
She fell in a faint.—The Count sprang to her aid, amazed and somewhat disconcerted by this scene.
"Panna Sophia," he said, "Pani Telimena, never shall this sword be stained with the blood of an unarmed foe! Soplicas, you are my prisoners. Thus did I in Italy, when beneath the crag that the Sicilians call
