Yurand despair, which up to that moment had been restrained, burst forth; for a while it was as sudden and terrible as a whirlwind. He seized his long hair with his hands and fell to beating the timbers of the wall with his head, groaning and repeating in a hoarse voice,—

"O Jesus! O Jesus! O Jesus!"

Zbyshko sprang to him, and shaking him by the arms with all his might, cried,—

"To the road with us! To Spyhov!"