him to remain to supper: he excused himself with service and went away. That moment Pan Michael's sister, without saying a word, kissed Basia on the forehead; the young lady flew to her own chamber and did not return to supper.
Only on the next day did Zagloba make a direct attack on her and inquire, "Well, little haiduk, a thunderbolt, as it were, struck Pan Adam?"
"Aha!" answered she, nodding affirmatively and blinking.
"Tell me what you said to him."
"The question was quick, for he is daring; but so was the answer, for I too am daring. Is it not true?"
"You acted splendidly! Let me embrace you! What did he say? Did he let himself be beaten off easily?"
"He asked if with time he could not effect something. I was sorry for him, but no, no; nothing can come of that!"
Here Basia, distending her nostrils, began to shake her forelock somewhat sadly, as if in thought.
"Tell me your reasons," said Zagloba.
"He too wanted them, but it was of no use; I did not tell him, and I will tell no man."
"But perhaps," said Zagloba, looking quickly into her eyes, "you bear some hidden love in your heart. Hei?"
"A fig for love!" cried Basia. And springing from the place, she began to repeat quickly, as if wishing to cover her confusion, "I do not want Pan Adam! I do not want Pan Adam! I do not want any one! Why do you plague me? Why do you plague me, all of you?" And on a sudden she burst into tears.
Zagloba comforted her as best he could, but during the whole day she was gloomy and peevish. "Michael," said he at dinner, "you are going, and Ketling will come soon; he is a beauty above beauties. I know not how these young ladies will defend themselves, but I think this, when you come back, you will find them both dead in love."
"Profit for us!" said Volodyovski. "We'll give him Panna Basia at once."
Basia fixed on him the look of a wild-cat and said, "But why are you less concerned about Krysia?"
The little knight was confused beyond measure at these words, and said, "You do not know Ketling's power, but you will discover it."
"But why should not Krysia discover it? Besides, it is not I who sing,—
'The fair head grows faint;
Where will she hide herself?
How will the poor thing defend herself?'"
Now Krysia was confused in her turn, and the little wasp continued, "In extremities I will ask Pan Adam to lend me his shield; but when you go away, I know not with what Krysia will defend herself, if peril comes on her."
Pan Michael had now recovered, and answered somewhat severely, "Perhaps she will find wherewith to defend herself better than you."
"How so?"
"For she is less giddy, and has more sedateness and dignity."
Pan Zagloba and the little knight's sister thought that the keen haiduk would come to battle at once; but to their great amazement, she dropped her head toward the plate, and after a while said, in a low voice, "If you are angry, I ask pardon of you and of Krysia."
CHAPTER XII.
As Pan Michael had permission to set out whenever he wished, he went to Anusia's grave at Chenstohova. After he had shed the last of his tears there, he journeyed on farther; and under the influence of fresh reminiscences it occurred to him that the secret engagement with Krysia was in some way too early. He felt that in sorrow and mourning there is something sacred and inviolable, which should not be touched, but permitted to rise heavenward like a cloud, and vanish in measureless space. Other men, it is true, after losing their wives, had married in a month or in two months; but they had not begun with the cloister, nor had misfortune met them at the threshold of happiness after whole years of waiting. But even if men of common mould do not respect the sacredness of sorrow, is it proper to follow their example?
Pan Michael journeyed forward then toward Russia, and reproaches went with him. But he was so just that he took all the blame on himself, and did not put any on Krysia; and to the many alarms which seized him was added this also, would not Krysia in the depth of her soul take that haste ill of him?
"Surely she would not act thus in my place," said Pan Michael to himself; "and having a lofty soul herself, beyond doubt, she seeks loftiness in others."
Fear seized the little knight lest he might seem to her petty; but that was vain fear. Krysia cared nothing for Pan Michael's mourning; and when he spoke to her too much concerning it, not only did it not excite sympathy in the lady, but it roused her self-love. Was not she, the living woman, equal to the dead one? Or, in general, was she of such small worth that the dead Anusia could be her rival? If Zagloba had been in the secret, he would have pacified Pan Michael certainly, by saying that women have not over-much mercy for one another.
After Volodyovski's departure, Panna Krysia was astonished not a little at what had happened, and at this, that the latch had fallen. In going from the Ukraine to Warsaw, where she had never been before, she had imagined that it would be different altogether. At the Diet of Convocation the escorts of bishops and dignitaries would meet; a brilliant knighthood would assemble from all sides of the Commonwealth. How many amusements and reviews would there be, how much bustle! and in all that whirl, in the concourse of knights, would appear some unknown "he," some knight such as maidens see only in dreams. This knight would flush up with love, appear under her windows with a lute; he would form cavalcades, love and sigh a long time, wear on his armor the knot of his loved one, suffer and overcome obstacles before he would fall at her feet and win mutual love.
But nothing of all that had come to pass. The haze, changing and colored, like a rainbow, vanished; a knight appeared, it is true,—a knight not at all common, heralded as the first soldier of the Commonwealth, a great cavalier, but not much, or indeed, not at all, like that "he." There were no cavalcades either, nor playing of lutes, nor tournaments, nor the knot on the armor, nor bustle, nor games, nor any of all that which rouses curiosity like a May dream, or a wonderful tale in the evening, which intoxicates like the odor of flowers, which allures as bait does a bird; from which the face flushes, the heart throbs, the body trembles. There was nothing but a small house outside the city; in the house Pan Michael; then intimacy grew up, and the rest of the vision disappeared as the moon disappears in the sky when clouds come and hide it. If that Pan Michael had appeared at the end of the story, he would be the desired one. More than once, when thinking of his fame, of his worth, of his valor, which made him the glory of the Commonwealth and the terror of its enemies, Krysia felt that, in spite of all, she loved him greatly; only it seemed to her that something had missed her, that a certain injustice had met her, a little through him, or rather through haste. That haste, therefore, had fallen into the hearts of both like a grain of sand; and since both were farther and farther from each other, that grain began to pain them somewhat. It happens frequently that something insignificant as a little thorn pricks the feelings of people, and in time either heals or festers more and more, and brings bitterness and pain, even to the greatest love. But in this case it was still far to pain and bitterness. For Pan Michael, the thought of Krysia was especially agreeable and soothing; and the thought of her followed
