Pan Michael. Генрик Сенкевич

Pan Michael - Генрик Сенкевич


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cannot endure Pan Michael!"

      "You learned fencing from a schoolmaster." Again he turned to Zagloba: "I think snow is beginning to fall."

      "Here is snow! snow for you!" repeated Basia, giving thrust after thrust.

      "Basia, that is enough! you are barely breathing," said Pani Makovetski.

      "Now hold to your sabre, for I will strike it from your hand."

      "We shall see!"

      "Here!" And the little sabre, hopping like a bird out of Basia's hands, fell with a rattle near the stove.

      "I let it go myself without thinking! It was not you who did that!" cried the young lady, with tears in her voice; and seizing the sabre, in a twinkle she thrust again: "Try it now."

      "There!" said Pan Michael. And again the sabre was at the stove. "That is enough for to-day," said the little knight.

      Pani Makovetski began to bustle about and talk louder than usual; but Basia stood in the middle of the room, confused, stunned, breathing heavily, biting her lips and repressing the tears which were crowding into her eyes in spite of her. She knew that they would laugh all the more if she burst out crying, and she wished absolutely to restrain herself; but seeing that she could not, she rushed from the room on a sudden.

      "For God's sake!" cried Pani Makovetski. "She has run to the stable, of course, and being so heated, will catch cold. Some one must go for her. Krysia, don't you go!"

      So saying, she went out, and seizing a warm shuba in the ante-room, hurried to the stable; and after her ran Zagloba, troubled about his little haiduk. Krysia wished to go also, but the little knight held her by the hand. "You heard the prohibition. I will not let this hand go till they come back."

      And, in fact, he did not let it go. But that hand was as soft as satin. It seemed to Pan Michael that a kind of warm current was flowing from those slender fingers into his bones, rousing in them an uncommon pleasantness; therefore he held them more firmly. A slight blush flew over Krysia's face. "I see that I am a prisoner taken captive."

      "Whoever should take such a prisoner would not have reason to envy the Sultan, for the Sultan would gladly give half his kingdom for her."

      "But you would not sell me to the Pagans?"

      "Just as I would not sell my soul to the Devil."

      Here Pan Michael remarked that momentary enthusiasm had carried him too far, and he corrected himself: "As I would not sell my sister."

      "That is the right word," said Krysia, seriously. "I am a sister in affection to your sister, and I will be the same to you."

      "I thank you from my heart!" said Pan Michael, kissing her hand; "for I have great need of consolation."

      "I know, I know," repeated the young lady; "I am an orphan myself." Here a small tear rolled down from her eyelid and stopped at the down on her lip.

      Pan Michael looked on that tear, on the mouth slightly shaded, and said, "You are as kind as a real angel; I feel comforted already."

      Krysia smiled sweetly: "May God reward you!"

      "As God is dear to me."

      The little knight felt meanwhile that if he should kiss her hand a second time, it would comfort him still more; but at that moment his sister appeared. "Basia took the shuba," said she, "but is in such confusion that she will not come in for anything. Pan Zagloba is chasing her through the whole stable."

      In fact, Zagloba, sparing neither jests nor persuasion, not only followed Basia through the stable, but drove her at last to the yard, in hopes that he would persuade her to the warm house. She ran before him, repeating, "I will not go! Let the cold catch me! I will not go! I will not go!"

      Seeing at last a pillar before the house with pegs, and on it a ladder, she sprang up the ladder like a squirrel, stopped, and leaned at last on the eave of the roof. Sitting there, she turned to Pan Zagloba and cried out half in laughter, "Well, I will go if you climb up here after me."

      "What sort of a cat am I, little haiduk, to creep along roofs after you? Is that the way you pay me for loving you?"

      "I love you too, but from the roof."

      "Grandfather wants his way; grandmother will have hers. Come down to me this minute!"

      "I will not go down!"

      "It is laughable, as God is dear to me, to take defeat to heart as you do. Not you alone, angry weasel, but Kmita, who passed for a master of masters, did Pan Michael treat in this way, and not in sport, but in a duel. The most famous swordsmen – Italians, Germans, and Swedes – could not stand before him longer than during one 'Our Father,' and here such a gadfly takes the affair to heart. Fie! be ashamed of yourself! Come down, come down! Besides, you are only beginning to learn."

      "But I cannot endure Pan Michael!"

      "God be good to you! Is it because he is exquisitissimus in that which you yourself wish to know? You should love him all the more."

      Zagloba was not mistaken. The admiration of Basia for the little knight increased in spite of her defeat; but she answered, "Let Krysia love him."

      "Come down! come down!"

      "I will not come down."

      "Very well, stay there; but I will tell you one thing: it is not nice for a young lady to sit on a ladder, for she may give an amusing exhibition to the world."

      "But that's not true," answered Basia, gathering in her skirts with her hand.

      "I am an old fellow, – I won't look my eyes out; but I'll call everybody this minute, let others stare at you."

      "I'll come down!" cried Basia.

      With that, Zagloba turned toward the side of the house. "As God lives, somebody is coming!" said he.

      In fact, from behind the corner appeared young Adam Novoveski, who, coming on horseback, had tied his beast at the side-gate and passed around the house himself, wishing to enter through the main door. Basia, seeing him, was on the ground in two springs, but too late. Unfortunately Pan Adam had seen her springing from the ladder, and stood confused, astonished, and covered with blushes like a young girl. Basia stood before him in the same way, till at last she cried out, —

      "A second confusion!"

      Zagloba, greatly amused, blinked some time with his sound eye; at length he said, "Pan Novoveski, a friend and subordinate of our Michael, and this is Panna Drabinovski (Ladder). Tfu! I wanted to say Yezorkovski."

      Pan Adam recovered readily; and because he was a soldier of quick wit, though young, he bowed, and raising his eyes to the wonderful vision, said, "As God lives! roses bloom on the snow in Ketling's garden."

      But Basia, courtesying, muttered to herself, "For some other nose than yours." Then she said very charmingly, "I beg you to come in."

      She went forward herself, and rushing into the room where Pan Michael was sitting with the rest of the company, cried, making reference to the red kontush of Pan Adam, "The red finch has come!" Then she sat at the table, put one hand into the other, and pursed her mouth in the style of a demure and strictly reared young lady.

      Pan Michael presented his young friend to his sister and Panna Krysia; and the friend, seeing another young lady of equal beauty, but of a different order, was confused a second time; he covered his confusion, however, with a bow, and to add to his courage reached his hand to his mustache, which had not grown much yet. Twisting his fingers above his lip, he turned to Pan Michael and told him the object of his coming. The grand hetman wished anxiously to see the little knight. As far as Pan Adam could conjecture, it was a question of some military function, for the hetman had received letters recently from Pan Vilchkovski, from Pan Silnitski, from Colonel Pivo, and other commandants stationed in the Ukraine and Podolia, with reports of Crimean events which were not of favorable promise.

      "The Khan himself and Sultan Galga, who made treaties with us at Podhaytse," continued Pan Adam, "wish to observe the treaties; but Budjyak is as noisy as a bee-hive at time of swarming. The Belgrod horde also are in an uproar; they do not wish to obey either


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