Pan Michael. Генрик Сенкевич
but how did she endure the loss?"
"With us, you see, a case like that happens every day; and it is a rare thing for any man, after reaching ripe age, to pass away with his own death. Among us people even say that it is not befitting a nobleman to die otherwise than in the field. 'How did Basia endure it?' Oh, she whimpered a little, poor girl, but mostly in the stable; for when anything troubles her, she is off to the stable. I sent for her once and inquired, 'For whom are you crying?' 'For all three,' said she. I saw from the answer that no one of them pleased her specially. I think that as her head is stuffed with something else, she has not felt the will of God yet; Krysia has felt it somewhat, but Basia perhaps not at all."
"She will feel it!" said Zagloba. "Gracious benefactress, we understand that perfectly. She will feel it! she will feel it!"
"Such is our predestination," said Pani Makovetski.
"That is just it. You took the words out of my mouth."
Further conversation was interrupted by the approach of the younger society. The little knight had grown much emboldened with Krysia; and she, through evident goodness of heart, was occupied with him and his grief, like a physician with a patient. And perhaps for this very reason she showed him more kindness than their brief acquaintance permitted. But as Pan Michael was a brother of the stolnik's wife, and the young lady was related to the stolnik, no one was astonished. Basia remained, as it were, aside; and only Pan Zagloba turned to her unbroken attention. But however that might be, it was apparently all one to Basia whether some one was occupied with her or not. At first, she gazed with admiration on both knights; but with equal admiration did she examine Ketling's wonderful weapons distributed on the walls. Later she began to yawn somewhat; then her eyes grew heavier and heavier, and at last she said, —
"I am so sleepy that I may wake in the morning."
After these words the company separated at once; for the ladies were very weary from the journey, and were only waiting to have beds prepared. When Zagloba found himself at last alone with Pan Michael, he began first of all to wink significantly, then he covered the little knight with a shower of light fists. "Michael! what, Michael, hei? like turnips! Will you become a monk, what? That bilberry Krysia is a sweet one. And that rosy little haiduk, uh! What will you say of her, Michael?"
"What? Nothing!" answered the little knight.
"That little haiduk pleased me principally. I tell you that when I sat near her during supper I was as warm from her as from a stove."
"She is a kid yet; the other is ever so much more stately."
"Panna Krysia is a real Hungarian plum; but this one is a little nut! As God lives, if I had teeth! I wanted to say if I had such a daughter, I'd give her to no man but you. An almond, I say, an almond!"
Volodyovski grew sad on a sudden, for he remembered the nicknames which Zagloba used to give Anusia. She stood as if living before him there in his mind and memory, – her form, her small face, her dark tresses, her joyfulness, her chattering, and ways of looking. Both these were younger, but still she was a hundred times dearer than all who were younger.
The little knight covered his face with his palms, and sorrow carried him away the more because it was unexpected. Zagloba was astonished; for some time he was silent and looked unquietly, then he asked, "Michael, what is the matter? Speak, for God's sake!"
Volodyovski spoke, "So many are living, so many are walking through the world, but my lamb is no longer among them; never again shall I see her." Then pain stifled his voice; he rested his forehead on the arm of the sofa and began to whisper through his set lips, "O God! O God! O God!"
CHAPTER VIII
Basia insisted that Volodyovski should give her instruction in "fencing;" he did not refuse, though he delayed for some days. He preferred Krysia; still, he liked Basia greatly, so difficult was it, in fact, not to like her.
A certain morning the first lesson began, mainly because of Basia's boasting and her assurances that she knew that art by no means badly, and that no common person could stand before her. "An old soldier taught me," said she; "there is no lack of these among us; it is known too that there are no swordsmen superior to ours. It is a question if even you, gentlemen, would not find your equals."
"Of what are you talking?" asked Zagloba. "We have no equals in the whole world."
"I should wish it to come out that even I am your equal. I do not expect it, but I should like it."
"If it were firing from pistols, I too would make a trial," said Pani Makovetski, laughing.
"As God lives, it must be that the Amazons themselves dwell in Latychov," said Zagloba. Here he turned to Krysia: "And what weapon do you use best, your ladyship?"
"None," answered Krysia.
"Ah, ha! none!" exclaimed Basia. And here, mimicking Krysia's voice, she began to sing: —
"'O knights, believe me,
Useless is armor,
Shields give no service;
Cupid's keen arrows,
Through steel and iron,
Go to all hearts.'
"She wields arms of that kind; never fear," added Basia, turning to Pan Michael and Zagloba. "In that she is a warrior of no common skill."
"Take your place, young lady!" said Pan Michael, wishing to conceal a slight confusion.
"Oh, as God lives! if what I think should come true!" cried Basia, blushing with delight.
And she stood at once in position with a light Polish sabre in her right hand; the left she put behind her, and with breast pushed forward, with raised head and dilated nostrils, she was so pretty and so rosy that Zagloba whispered to Pan Michael's sister, "No decanter, even if filled with Hungarian a hundred years old, would delight me so much with the sight of it."
"Remember," said the little knight to Basia, "that I will only defend myself; I will not thrust once. You may attack as quickly as you choose."
"Very well. If you wish me to stop, give the word."
"The fencing could be stopped without a word, if I wished."
"And how could that be done?"
"I could take the sabre easily out of the hand of a fencer like you."
"We shall see!"
"We shall not, for I will not do so, through politeness."
"There is no need of politeness in this case. Do it if you can. I know that I have less skill than you, but still I will not let that be done."
"Then you permit it?"
"I permit it."
"Oh, do not permit, sweetest haiduk," said Zagloba. "He has disarmed the greatest masters."
"We shall see!" repeated Basia.
"Let us begin," said Pan Michael, made somewhat impatient by the boasting of the maiden.
They began. Basia thrust terribly, skipping around like a pony in a field. Volodyovski stood in one place, making, according to his wont, the slightest movements of the sabre, paying but little respect to the attack.
"You brush me off like a troublesome fly!" cried the irritated Basia.
"I am not making a trial of you; I am teaching you," answered the little knight. "That is good! For a fair head, not bad at all! Steadier with the hand!"
"'For a fair head?' You call me a fair head! you do! you do!"
But Pan Michael, though Basia used her most celebrated thrusts, was untouched. Even he began to talk with Zagloba, of purpose to show how little he cared for Basia's thrusts: "Step away from the window, for you are in the lady's light; and though a sabre is larger than a needle, she has less experience with the sabre."
Basia's nostrils dilated still more, and her forelock fell to her flashing eyes. "Do you hold me in contempt?" inquired she, panting quickly.
"Not your person; God save me from that!"
"I