All slept late next morning, except the soldiers on guard and the
little knight, who never neglected service for pleasure. Pan Adam
was on his feet early enough, for Panna Zosia seemed still more
charming to him after his rest. Arraying himself handsomely, he
went to the room in which they had danced the previous evening
to listen whether there was not some movement or bustle in the
adjoining chambers where the ladies were.
In the chamber occupied by Pani Boski movement was to be heard; but
the impatient young man was so anxious to see Zosia that he seized
his dagger and fell to picking out the moss and clay between the
logs, so that, God willing, he might look through the chink with
one eye at Zosia.
Zagloba, who was just passing with his beads in his hand, found him
at this work, and knowing at once what the matter was, came up on
tiptoe and began to belabor with the sandalwood beads the shoulders
of the knight.
Pan Adam slipped aside and squirmed as if laughing; but he was
greatly confused, and the old man pursued him and struck him
continually.
“Oh, such a Turk! oh, Tartar! here it is for you; here it is for
you! I exorcise you! Where are your morals? You want to see a
woman? Here it is for you; here it is for you!”
“My benefactor,” cried Pan Adam, “it is not right to make a whip
out of holy beads. Let me go, for I had no sinful intention.”
“You say it is not right to strike with a rosary? Not true! The
palm on Palm Sunday is holy, and still people strike with it. Ha!
these were Pagan beads once and belonged to Suban Kazi; but I took
them from him at Zbaraj, and afterward the apostolic nuncio blessed
them. See, they are genuine sandalwood!”
“If they are real sandalwood, they have an odor.”
“Beads have an odor for me, and a girl for you. I must dress your
shoulders well yet, for there is nothing to drive out the Devil
like a chaplet.”
“I had no sinful intention; upon my health I had not!”
“Was it only through piety that you were opening a chink?”
“Not through piety, but through love, which is so wonderful that
I’m not sure that I shall not burst from it, as a bomb bursts. What
is the use in pretending, when it is true? Flies do not trouble a
horse in autumn as this affection troubles me.”
“See that this is not sinful desire; for when I came in here you
could not stand still, but were striking heel against heel as if
you were standing on a firebrand.”
“I saw nothing, as I love God sincerely, for I had only just begun
to pick at the chink.”
“Ah, youth! blood is not water! I, too, must at times even yet
repress myself, for in me there is a lion seeking whom he may
devour. If you have honorable intentions, you are thinking of
marriage.”
“Thinking of marriage? God of might! of what should I be thinking?
Not only am I thinking, but ’tis as if some one were pricking me
with an awl. Is it not known to your grace that I made a proposal
to Panna Boski last evening, and I have the consent of my father?”
“The boy is of sulphur and powder! Hangman take thee! If that is
the case, then the affair is quite different; but tell me, how was
it?”
“Last evening Pani Boski went to her room to bring a handkerchief
for Zosia, I after her. She turns around: ‘Who is there?’ And I,
with a rush to her feet: ‘Beat me, mother, but give me Zosia,--my
happiness, my love!’ But Pani Boski, when she recovered herself,
said: ‘All people praise you and think you a worthy cavalier;
still, I will not give an answer to-day, nor to-morrow, but later;
and you need the permission of your father.’ She went out then,
thinking that I was under the influence of wine. In truth, I had a
little in my head.”
“That is nothing; all had some in their heads. Did you not see the
pointed caps sidewise on the heads of Naviragh and the Anardrats
toward the end?”
“I did not notice them, for I was settling in my mind how to get my
father’s consent in the easiest way.”
“Well, did it come hard?”
“Toward morning we both went to our room; and because it is well
to hammer iron while it is hot, I thought to myself at once that
it was necessary to feel, even from afar, how my father would look
at the matter. ‘Listen, father: I want Zosia terribly, and I want
your consent; and if you don’t give it, then, as God lives, I’ll go
to the Venetians to serve, and that’s all you’ll hear of me.’ Then
did not he fall on me with great rage: ‘Oh, such a son!’ said he;
‘you can do without permission! Go to the Venetians, or take the
girl,--only I tell you this, that I will not give you a copper, not
only of my own, but of your mother’s money, for it is all mine.’”
Zagloba thrust out his under-lip. “Oh, that is bad!”
“But wait. When I heard that, I said: ‘But am I asking for money,
or do I need it? I want your blessing, nothing more; for the
property of Pagans that came to my sabre is enough to rent a good
estate or purchase a village. What belongs to mother, let that be a
dower for Eva; I will add one or two handfuls of turquoise and some
silk and brocade, and if a bad year comes, I’ll help my father with
ready money.’ My father became dreadfully curious then. ‘Have you
such wealth?’ asked he. ‘In God’s name, where did you get it? Was
it from plunder, for you went away as poor as a Turkish saint?’
“‘Fear God, father,’ answered I. ‘It is eleven years since I began
to bring down this fist, and, as they say, it is not of the worst,
and shouldn’t it collect something? I was at the storming of rebel
towns in which ruffiandom and the Tartars had piled up the finest
plunder; I fought against murzas and robber bands: booty came and
came. I took only what was recognized as mine without injustice to
any; but it increased, and if a man didn’t frolic, I should have
had twice as much property as you got from your father.’”
“What did the old man say to that?” asked Zagloba, rejoicing.
“My father was amazed, for he had not expected this, and began
straightway to complain of my wastefulness. ‘There would be,’ said
he, ‘an increase, but that this scatterer, this haughty fellow who
loves only to plume himself and puts on the magnate, squanders
all, saves nothing.’ Then curiosity conquered him, and he began
to ask particularly what I have; and seeing that I could travel
quickly by smearing with that tar, I not only concealed nothing,
but lied a little, though usually I will not over-color, for I
think thus to myself: ‘Truth is oats, and lying chopped straw.’ My
father bethought himself, and now for plans: ‘This or that [land]
might have been bought,’ said he; ‘this or that lawsuit might have
been kept up,’ said he; ‘we might have lived at each side of the
same boundary, and when you were away I could have looked after
everything.’ And my worthy father began to cry. ‘Adam,’ said he,
‘that girl has pleased me terribly; she is under the protection of
the hetman,--there may be some profit out of that, too; but do you
respect this my second daughter, and do not squander what she has,
for I should not forgive you at my death-hour.’ And I, my gracious
benefactor, just roared at the very suspicion of injustice to
Zosia. My father and I fell into each other’s embraces, and wept
till the first cockcrow, precisely.”
“The old rogue!” muttered Zagloba, then he added aloud: “Ah, there
may be a wedding soon, and new amusements in Hreptyoff, especially
since it is carnival time.”
“There would be one to-morrow if it depended on me,” cried Pan
Adam, abruptly; “but this is what: My leave will end soon, and
service is service, so I must return to Rashkoff. Well, Pan
Rushchyts will give me another leave, I know. But I am not certain
that there will not be delays on the part of the ladies. For when
I push up to the old one, she says, ‘My husband is in captivity.’
When I speak to the daughter, she says, ‘Papa is in captivity.’
What of that? I do not keep that papa in bonds, do I? I’m terribly
afraid of these obstacles; if it were not for that, I would take
Father Kaminski by the soutane and wouldn’t let him go till he had
tied Zosia and me. But when women get a thing into their heads you
can’t draw it out with nippers. I’d give my last copper, I’d go in
person for ‘papa,’ but I’ve no way of doing it. Besides, no one
knows where he is; maybe he is dead, and there is the work for you!
If they ask me to wait for him, I might have to wait till the Day
of Judgment!”
“Pyotrovich, Naviragh, and the Anardrats will take the road
to-morrow; there will be tidings soon.”
“Jesus save us! Am I to wait for tidings? There can be nothing
before spring; meanwhile I shall wither away, as God is dear to me!
My benefactor, all have faith in your wit and experience; knock
this waiting out of the heads of these women. My benefactor, in the
spring there will be war. God knows what will happen. Besides, I
want to marry Zosia, not ‘papa;’ why must I sigh to him?”
“Persuade the women to go to Rashkoff and settle. There it will be
easier to get tidings, and if Pyotrovich finds Boski, he will be
near you. I will do what I can, I repeat; but do you ask Pani Basia
to take your part.”
“I will not neglect that, I will not neglect, for devil--”
With that the door squeaked, and Pani Boski entered. But before
Zagloba could look around, Pan Adam had already thundered down with
his whole length at her feet, and occupying an enormous extent of
the floor with his gigantic body, began to cry:--
“I have my father’s consent. Give me Zosia, mother! Give me Zosia,
give me Zosia, mother!”
“Give Zosia, mother,” repeated Zagloba, in a bass voice.
The uproar drew people from the adjacent chambers; Basia came
in, Pan Michael came from his office, and soon after came Zosia
herself. It did not become the girl to seem to surmise what the
matter was; but her face grew purple at once, and putting one hand
in the other quickly she dropped them before her, pursed her mouth,
and stood at the wall with downcast eyes. Pan Michael ran for old
Novoveski. When he came he was deeply offended that his son had not
committed the function to him, and had not left the affair to his
eloquence, still he upheld the entreaty.
Pani Boski, who lacked, indeed, every near guardianship in the
world, burst into tears at last, and agreed to Pan Adam’s request
to go to Rashkoff and wait there for her husband. Then, covered
with tears, she turned to her daughter.
“Zosia,” asked she, “are the plans of Pan Adam to your heart?”
All eyes were turned to Zosia. She was standing at the wall, her
eyes fixed on the floor as usual, and only after some silence did
she say, in a voice barely audible,--
“I will go to Rashkoff.”
“My beauty!” roared Pan Adam, and springing to the maiden he caught
her in his arms. Then he cried till the walls trembled, “Zosia is
mine! She is mine, she is mine!”