whither they went, they came up with one of the guard-houses, and, to
their extreme terror, were accosted by a patrol. Four of the banditti
immediately disappeared, leaving two only with Kosinski, who, much
alarmed, forced his prisoner to walk faster and keep a profound
silence. Notwithstanding all this precaution, scarce a quarter of an
hour afterwards they were challenged by a second watch; and the other
two men taking flight, Kosinski, full of indignation at their
desertion, was left alone with the king. His majesty, sinking with
pain and fatigue, besought permission to rest for a moment; but
Kosinski refused, and pointing his sword towards the king, compelled
him to proceed.

"As they walked on, the insulted monarch, who was hardly able to drag
one limb after the other, observed that his conductor gradually
forgot his vigilance, until he was thoroughly given up to thought.
The king conceived some hope from this change, and ventured to say 'I
see that you know not how to proceed. You cannot but be aware that
the enterprise in which you are engaged, however it may end, is full
of peril to you. Successful conspirators are always jealous of each
other. Pulaski will find it as easy to rid himself of your life as it
is to take mine. Avoid that danger, and I will promise you none on my
account. Suffer me to enter the convent of Bielany: we cannot be far
from it; and then, do you provide for your own safety.' Kosinski,
though rendered desperate by the circumstances in which he was
involved, replied, 'No; I have sworn, and I would rather sacrifice my
life than my honor.'

"The king had neither strength nor spirits to urge him further, and
they continued to break their way through the bewildering underwood,
until they approached Mariemont. Here Stanislaus, unable to stir