his breast, —
"Into your hands I give my happiness and life. I expect mercy, for my burden is great."
"Let us pray for God's mercy!" exclaimed Krysia, suddenly, dropping on her knees.
Ketling did not understand her; but he did not dare to oppose that intention, therefore he knelt near her in hope and fear. They began to pray again. From moment to moment their voices were audible in the empty church, and the echo gave forth wonderful and complaining sounds.
"God be merciful!" said Krysia.
"God be merciful!" repeated Ketling.
"Have mercy on us!"
"Have mercy on us!"
She prayed then in silence; but Ketling saw that weeping shook her whole form. For a long time she could not calm herself; and then, growing quiet, she continued to kneel without motion. At last she rose and said, "Let us go."
They went out again into that long corridor. Ketling hoped that on the way he would receive some answer, and he looked into her eyes, but in vain. She walked hurriedly, as if wishing to find herself as soon as possible in that chamber in which Zagloba was waiting for them. But when the door was some tens of steps distant, the knight seized the edge of her robe.
"Panna Krysia!" exclaimed he, "by all that is holy – "
Then Krysia turned away, and grasping his hand so quickly that he had not time to show the least resistance, she pressed it in the twinkle of an eye to her lips. "I love you with my whole soul; but I shall never be yours!" and before the astonished Ketling could utter a word, she added, "Forget all that has happened."
A moment later they were both in the chamber. The doorkeeper was sleeping in one armchair, and Zagloba in the other. The entrance of the young people roused them. Zagloba, however, opened his eye and began to blink with it half consciously; but gradually memory of the place and the persons returned to him.
"Ah, that is you!" said he, drawing down his girdle, "I dreamed that the new king was elected, but that he was a Pole. Were you at the balcony?"
"We were."
"Did the spirit of Marya Ludovika appear to you, perchance?"
"It did!" answered Krysia, gloomily.
CHAPTER XV
After they had left the castle, Ketling needed to collect his thoughts and shake himself free from the astonishment into which Krysia's action had brought him. He took farewell of her and Zagloba in front of the gate, and they went to their lodgings. Basia and Pani Makovetski had returned already from the sick lady; and Pan Michael's sister greeted Zagloba with the following words, —
"I have a letter from my husband, who remains yet with Michael at the stanitsa. They are both well, and promise to be here soon. There is a letter to you from Michael, and to me only a postscript in my husband's letter. My husband writes also that the dispute with the Jubris about one of Basia's estates has ended happily. Now the time of provincial diets is approaching. They say that in those parts Pan Sobieski's name has immense weight, and that the local diet will vote as he wishes. Every man living is preparing for the election; but our people will all be with the hetman. It is warm there already, and rains are falling. With us in Verhutka the buildings were burned. A servant dropped fire; and because there was wind – "
"Where is Michael's letter to me?" inquired Zagloba, interrupting the torrent of news given out at one breath by the worthy lady.
"Here it is," said she, giving him a letter. "Because there was wind, and the people were at the fair – "
"How were the letters brought here?" asked Zagloba, again.
"They were taken to Ketling's house, and a servant brought them here. Because, as I say, there was wind – "
"Do you wish to listen, my benefactress?"
"Of course, I beg earnestly."
Zagloba broke the seal and began to read, first in an undertone, for himself, then aloud for all, —
"I send this first letter to you; but God grant that there will not be another, for posts are uncertain in this region, and I shall soon present myself personally among you. It is pleasant here in the field, but still my heart draws me tremendously toward you, and there is no end to thoughts and memories, wherefore solitude is dearer to me in this place than company. The promised work has passed, for the hordes sit quietly, only smaller bands are rioting in the fields; these also we fell upon twice with such fortune that not a witness of their defeat got away."
"Oh, they warmed them!" cried Basia, with delight. "There is nothing higher than the calling of a soldier!"
"Doroshenko's rabble" (continued Zagloba) "would like to have an uproar with us, but they cannot in any way without the horde. The prisoners confess that a larger chambul will not move from any quarter, which I believe, for if there was to be anything like this it would have taken place already, since the grass has been green for a week past, and there is something with which to feed horses. In ravines bits of snow are still hiding here and there; but the open steppes are green, and a warm wind is blowing, from which the horses begin to shed their hair, and this is the surest sign of spring. I have sent already for leave, which may come any day, and then I shall start at once. Pan Adam succeeds me in keeping guard, at which there is so little labor that Makovetski and I have been fox-hunting whole days, – for simple amusement, as the fur is useless when spring is near. There are many bustards, and my servant shot a pelican. I embrace you with my whole heart; I kiss the hands of my sister, and those of Panna Krysia, to whose good-will I commit myself most earnestly, imploring God specially to let me find her unchanged, and to receive the same consolation. Give an obeisance from me to Panna Basia. Pan Adam has vented the anger roused by his rejection at Mokotov on the backs of ruffians, but there is still some in his mind, it is evident. He is not wholly relieved. I commit you to God and His most holy love.
"P. S. I bought a lot of very elegant ermine from passing Armenians; I shall bring this as a gift to Panna Krysia, and for your haiduk there will be Turkish sweetmeats."
"Let Pan Michael eat them himself; I am not a child," said Basia, whose cheeks flushed as if from sudden pain.
"Then you will not be glad to see him? Are you angry at him?" asked Zagloba.
But Basia merely muttered something in low tones, and really settled down in anger, thinking some of how lightly Pan Michael was treating her, and a little about the bustard and that pelican, which roused her curiosity specially.
Krysia sat there during the reading with closed eyes, turned from the light; in truth, it was lucky that those present could not see her face, for they would have known at once that something uncommon was happening. That which took place in the church, and the letter of Pan Volodyovski, were for her like two blows of a club. The wonderful dream had fled; and from that moment the maiden stood face to face with a reality as crushing as misfortune. She could not collect her thoughts to wait, and indefinite, hazy feelings were storming in her heart. Pan Michael, with his letter, with the promise of his coming, and with a bundle of ermine, seemed to her so flat that he was almost repulsive. On the other hand, Ketling had never been so dear. Dear to her was the very thought of him, dear his words, dear his face, dear his melancholy. And now she must go from love, from homage, from him toward whom her heart is struggling, her hands stretching forth, in endless sorrow and suffering, to give her soul and her body to another, who for this alone, that he is another, becomes wellnigh hateful to her.
"I
