They took their crossbows, mounted their horses and went first to Moczydoly, destined for Jagienka’s dowry, then to the edge of the forest, where they entrusted the horses to a servant and went on foot, because it was impossible to pass through the thicket on horseback. While walking, Jagienka pointed to the large meadow covered with reeds and to the blue ribbon of forest and said:
“Those woods belong to Cztan of Rogow.”
“The same man who would like to take you?”
She began to laugh:
“He would if he could!”
“You can defend yourself very easily, having for your defence the Wilk who, as I understand, gnashes his teeth at Cztan. I wonder that they have not challenged each other to fight until death.”
“They have not because tatulo before he went to the war said to them: ‘If you fight about Jagienka I do not want to see you any more.’ How could they fight then? When they are in Zgorzelice they scowl at each other; but afterward they drink together in an inn in Krzesnia until they are drunk.”
“Stupid boys!”
“Why?”
“Because while Zych was away one of them should have taken you by force. What could Zych do, if when he returned he had found you with a baby on your lap?”
At this Jagienka’s blue eyes flashed immediately.
“Do you think I would let them take me? Have we not people in Zgorzelice, and do I not know how to manage a crossbow or a boar-spear? Let them try! I would chase them back home and even attack them in Rogow or Brzozowa. Father knew very well that he could go to the war and leave me home alone.”
Speaking thus, she frowned, and shook the crossbow threateningly, so that Zbyszko began to laugh, and said:
“You ought to have been a knight and not a girl.”
She becoming calmer, answered:
“Cztan guarded me from Wilk and Wilk from Cztan. Then I was also under the abbot’s tutelage, and it is well for everyone to let the abbot alone.”
“Owa!” answered Zbyszko. “They are all afraid of the abbot! But I, may Saint George help me to speak the truth to you, I would neither be afraid of the abbot, nor of your peasants, nor of yourself; I would take you!”
At this Jagienka stopped on the spot, and fixing her eyes on Zbyszko, asked in a strange, soft, low voice:
“You would take me?”
Then her lips parted and blushing like the dawn, she waited for his answer.
But he evidently was only thinking what he would do, were he in Cztan or Wilk’s position; because after a while, he shook his golden hair and said further:
“A girl must marry and not fight with the boys. Unless you have a third one, you must choose one of these two.”
“You must not tell me that,” answered the girl, sadly.
“Why not? I have been away from home for a long time, therefore I do not know whether there is somebody around Zgorzelice, of whom you are fond or not.”
“Hej!” answered Jagienka. “Let it be!”
They walked along silently, trying to make their way through the thicket which was now much denser because the bushes and the trees were covered with wild hop vines. Zbyszko walked first, tearing down the green vines, and breaking the branches here and there; Jagienka followed him with a crossbow on her shoulder, looking like a hunting goddess.
“Beyond that thicket,” said she, “there is a deep brook; but I know where the ford is.”
“I have long boots on, reaching above my knees; we can cross it,” answered Zbyszko.
Shortly afterward, they reached the brook. Jagienka being familiar with the Moczydlowski forests, very easily found the ford; but the water was deeper than usual, the little brook being swollen by the rains. Then Zbyszko without asking her permission, seized the girl in his arms.
“I can cross by myself,” said Jagienka.
“Put your arms around my neck!” answered Zbyszko.
He walked slowly through the water, while the girl nestled to him. Finally when they were near the other shore, she said:
“Zbyszku!”
“What?”
“I care neither for Cztan, nor for Wilk.”
As he placed her on the shore, he answered excitedly:
“May God give you the best I He will not be wronged.”
The Odstajny lake was not far away now. Jagienka walking in front, turned from time to time, and putting a finger on her lips, ordered Zbyszko to be silent. They were walking amidst the osiers and gray willows, on low, damp ground. From the left side, were heard the voices of birds, and Zbyszko was surprised at that, because it was time for the birds to migrate.
“We are near a morass which is never frozen,” whispered Jagienka; “the ducks pass the winter there; even in the lake the water freezes only near the shores. See how it is steaming.”
Zbyszko looked through the willows and noticed in front of him, something like a bank of fog; it was the Odstajny lake.
Jagienka again put a finger to her lips, and after a while they reached the lake. The girl climbed on an old willow and bent over the water. Zbyszko followed her example; and for a long time they remained quiet, seeing nothing in front of them, on account of the fog; hearing nothing but the mournful puling of lapwings. Finally the wind blew, rustled the osiers and the yellow leaves of the willows, and disclosed the waters of the lake which were slightly ruffled by the wind.
“Do you see anything?” whispered Zbyszko.
“No. Keep quiet!”
After a while, the wind ceased and complete silence followed. Then on the surface of the lake appeared one head, then another; finally near them a big beaver entered the water from the shore, carrying in his mouth a newly cut branch, and began to swim amidst the duck-weed and marigold holding his mouth out of the water and pushing the branch before him. Zbyszko lying on the trunk beneath Jagienka, noticed that her elbow moved quietly and that her head was bent forward; evidently she had aimed at the animal which, not suspecting any danger, was swimming close by, toward the clear water.
Finally the string of the crossbow twanged and at the same moment Jagienka cried:
“I hit him! I hit him!”
Zbyszko instantly climbed higher and looked through the thicket toward the water; the beaver plunged into the water, then reappeared on the surface, turning somersets.
“I hit him hard! He will soon be quiet!” said Jagienka.
The movements of the animal grew slower, and then before one had time sufficient to recite one “Ave Maria,” he was floating on his back on the surface of the water.
“I will go and get him,” said Zbyszko.
“No, do not go. Here, near the shore, there is, deep slime. Anyone who does not know how to manage, will surely drown.”
“Then how will we get him?”
“He will be in Bogdaniec this evening, do not worry about that; now we must go home.”
“You hit him hard!”
“Bah! It is not the first one!”
“Other girls are afraid to even look at a crossbow; but with you, one can go to the forest all his life.”
Jagienka smiled at such praise, but she did not answer; they returned the same way they came. Zbyszko asked her about the beavers and she told him how many of them there were in Moczydoly, and how many in Zgorzelice.
Suddenly she struck her hip with her hand and exclaimed:
“Well, I left my arrows on the willow. Wait!”
Before he could say that he would return for them, she jumped back like a roe and disappeared. Zbyszko waited and waited; at last he began to wonder what detained her so long.
“She must have lost the arrows and is searching for them,” he said to himself; “but I will go and see whether anything has happened to her.”
He had hardly started to return before the girl appeared with her bow in her hand, her face smiling and blushing, and with the beaver on her shoulders.
“For God’s sake!” cried Zbyszko, “how did you get him?”
“How? I went into the water, tha
t is all! It is nothing new for me; but I did not want you to go, because the mud drags anyone down who does not know how to swim in it.”
“And I waited here like a fool! You are a sly girl.”
“Well, could I undress before you?”
“Bah! If I had followed you, then I would have seen a wonder!”
“Be silent!”
“I was just starting, so help me God!”
“Be silent!”
After a while, wishing to turn the conversation, she said:
“Wring my tress; it makes my back wet.”
Zbyszko caught the tress in one hand and began to wring with the other, saying:
“The best way will be to unbraid it, then the wind will soon dry it.”
But she did not wish to do that on account of the thicket through which they were obliged to make their way. Zbyszko now put the beaver on his shoulders. Jagienka walking in front of him, said:
“Now Macko will soon be well, because there is no better medicine for a wound than the grease of a bear inside, and the grease of a beaver outside. In about two weeks, he will be able to ride a horse.”
“May God grant that!” answered Zbyszko. “I am waiting for it as for salvation, because I cannot leave the sick man, and it is hard for me to stay here.”
“Why is it hard for you to stay here?” she asked him.
“Has Zych told you nothing about Danusia?”
“He did tell me something. I know that she covered you with her veil. I know that! He told me also that every knight makes some vow, to serve his lady. But he said that such a vow did not amount to anything; that some of the knights were married, but they served their ladies just the same. But Danusia, Zbyszko; tell me about her!”
Having come very close to him, she began to look at his face with great anxiety; he did not pay any attention to her frightened voice and looks, but said:
“She is my lady, and at the same time she is my sweetest love. I have not spoken about her to anybody; but I am going to tell you, because we have been acquainted since we were children. I will follow her beyond the tenth river and beyond the tenth sea, to the Germans and to the Tartars, because there is no other girl like her. Let my uncle remain in Bogdaniec, and I will go to her. What do I care about Bogdaniec, the household, the herds, or the abbot’s wealth, without her! I will mount my horse and I will go, so help me God; I will fulfill that which I promised her, or I will die.”
“I did not know,” answered Jagienka, in a hollow voice.
Zbyszko began to tell her about all that had happened; how he had met Danusia in Tyniec; how he had made a vow to her; about everything that happened afterward; about his imprisonment, and how Danusia rescued him; about Jurand’s refusal, their farewell and his loneliness; finally about his joy, because as soon as Macko became well, he would go to his beloved girl. His story was interrupted at last by the sight of the servant with the horses, waiting on the edge of the forest.
Jagienka immediately mounted her horse and began to bid Zbyszko good-bye.
“Let the servant follow you with the beaver; I am going to Zgorzelice.”
“Then you will not go to Bogdaniec? Zych is there.”
“No. Tatulo said he would return and told me to go home.”
“Well, may God reward you for the beaver.”
“With God.”
Then Jagienka was alone. Going home through the heaths, she looked back for a while after Zbyszko; when he disappeared beyond the trees, she covered her eyes with her hands as if sheltering them from the sunlight. But soon large tears began to flow down her cheeks and drop one after another on the horse’s mane.
CHAPTER VIII.
After the conversation with Zbyszko, Jagienka did not appear in Bogdaniec for three days; but on the third day she hurried in with the news that the abbot had arrived at Zgorzelice. Macko received the news with emotion. It is true he had money enough to pay the amount for which the estate was pledged, and he calculated that he would have enough to induce settlers to come, to buy herds and to make other improvements; but in the whole transaction, much depended on the disposition of the rich relation, who, for instance, could take or leave the peasants settled by him on the land, and in that way increase or diminish the value of the estate.
Therefore Macko asked Jagienka about the abbot; how he was; if he was in a good humor or gloomy; what he had said about them; when he was coming to Bogdaniec? She gave him sensible answers, trying to encourage and tranquillize him in every respect.
She said that the abbot was in good health and gay; that he was accompanied by a considerable retinue in which, besides the armed servants, there were several seminarists and rybalts; that he sang with Zych and that he listened gladly not only to the spiritual but to the worldly songs also. She had noticed also that he asked carefully about Macko, and that he listened eagerly to Zych’s narration of Zbyszko’s adventure in Krakow.
“You know best what you ought to do,” finally the clever girl said; “but I think that Zbyszko ought to go immediately and greet his elder relative, and not wait until the abbot comes to Bogdaniec.”
Macko liked the advice; therefore he called Zbyszko and said to him:
“Dress yourself beautifully; then go and bow to the abbot, and pay him respect; perhaps he will take a fancy to you.”
Then he turned to Jagienka:
“I would not be surprised if you were stupid, because you are a woman; but I am astonished to find that you have such good sense. Tell me then, the best way to receive the abbot when he comes here.”
“As for food, he will tell you himself what he wishes to have; he likes to feast well, but if there be a great deal of saffron in the food, he will eat anything.”
Macko hearing this, said:
“How can I get saffron for him!”
“I brought some,” said Jagienka.
“Give us more such girls!” exclaimed the overjoyed Macko. “She is pretty, a good housekeeper, intelligent and good-hearted! Hej! if I were only younger I would take her immediately!”
Here Jagienka glanced at Zbyszko, and having sighed slightly, she said further:
“I brought also the dice, the goblet and the cloth, because after his meal, the abbot likes to play dice.”
“He had the same habit formerly, and he used to get very angry.”
“He gets angry sometimes now; then he throws the goblet on the ground and rushes from the room into the fields. Then he comes back smiling, and laughs at his anger. You know him! If one does not contradict him, you cannot find a better man in the world.”
“And who would contradict him; is he not wiser and mightier than others?”
Thus they talked while Zbyszko was dressing in the alcove. Finally he came out, looking so beautiful that he dazzled Jagienka, as much as he did the first time he went to Zgorzelice in his white jaka. She regretted that this handsome knight was not hers, and that he was in love with another girl.
Macko was pleased because he thought that the abbot could not help liking Zbyszko and would be more lenient during their business transaction. He was so much pleased with this idea, that he determined to go also.
“Order the servants to prepare a wagon,” said he to Zbyszko. “If I could travel from Krakow to Bogdaniec with an iron in my side, surely I can go now to Zgorzelice.”
“If you only will not faint,” said Jagienka.
“Ej! I will be all right, because I feel stronger already. And even if I faint, the abbot will see that I hastened to meet him, and will be more generous.”
“I prefer your health to his generosity!” said Zbyszko.
But Macko was persistent and started for Zgorzelice. On the road he moaned a little, but he continued to give Zbyszko advice; he told him how to act in Zgorzelice, and especially recommended him to be obedient and humble in the presence of their mighty relative, who never would suffer the slightest opposition.
When they came to Zgorzelice, they found Zych and the abbot sitting in front of the house, looki
ng at the beautiful country, and drinking wine. Behind them, near the wall, sat six men of the abbot’s retinue; two of them were rybalts; one was a pilgrim, who could easily be distinguished by his curved stick and dark mantle; the others looked like seminarists because their heads were shaved, but they wore lay clothing, girdles of ox leather, and swords.
When Zych perceived Macko coming in the wagon, he rushed toward him; but the abbot, evidently remembering his spiritual dignity, remained seated, and began to say something to his seminarists. Zbyszko and Zych conducted the sick Macko toward the house.
“I am not well yet,” said Macko, kissing the abbot’s hand, “but I came to bow to you, my benefactor; to thank you for your care of Bogdaniec, and to beg you for a benediction, which is most necessary for a sinful man.”
“I heard you were better,” said the abbot, placing his hand on Macko’s head; “and that you had promised to go to the grave of our late queen.”
“Not knowing which saint’s protection to ask for, I made a vow to her.”
“You did well!” said the abbot, enthusiastically; “she is better than all the others, if one only dare beseech her!”
In a moment his face became flushed with anger, his cheeks filled with blood, his eyes began to sparkle.
They were so used to his impetuosity, that Zych began to laugh and exclaimed:
“Strike, who believes in God!”
As for the abbot, he puffed loudly, and looked at those present; then laughed suddenly, and having looked at Zbyszko, he asked:
“Is that your nephew and my relation?”
Zbyszko bent and kissed his hand.
“I saw him when he was a small boy; I did not recognize him,” said the abbot. “Show yourself!” And he began to look at him from head to foot, and finally said:
“He is too handsome! It is a girl, not a knight!”
“To this Macko replied:
“That girl used to go to dancing parties with the Germans; but those who took her, fell down and did not rise again.”
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 504