soul expanded, at the prospect of securing liberty and life to a
virtuous people. He _felt_ all the happiness of such an achievement,
while he could only _imagine_ how that spirit must shrink from
reflection which animates the self-condemned slave to fight, not
merely to fasten chains on others, but to rivet his own the closer.
The best affections of man having put the sword into the hand of
Thaddeus, his principle as a Christian did not remonstrate against
his passion for arms.

When he was told the fortifications were finished, he retired with a
tranquil step towards the Masovian quarters. He found the palatine
awake, and eager to welcome him with the joyful information that his
wounds were so slight as to promise a speedy amendment, Thaddeus
asked for his prisoner. The palatine answered that he was in the next
tent, where a surgeon closely attended him, who had already given a
very favorable opinion of the wound, which was in the muscles of the
breast.

"Have you seen him, my dear sir?" inquired Thaddeus.

"Yes," replied the palatine; "I was supported into his marquée before
I retired to my own. I told him who I was, and repeated your offers
of service. He received my proffer with expressions of gratitude, and
at the same time declared he had nothing to blame but his own folly
for bringing him to the state in which he now lies."

"How, my lord?" rejoined Thaddeus. "Does he repent of being a
soldier? or is he ashamed of the cause for which he fought?"

"Both, Thaddeus; he is not a Muscovite, but a young Englishman."