Without troubling himself in the least about those who had been sent to
pursue him, the originator of all this confusion slowly walked towards
the old house and the pool. We hardly need to say it was Levko. His
black fur coat was buttoned up; he carried his cap in his hand, and the
perspiration was pouring down his face. The moon poured her light on the
gloomy majesty of the dark maple-wood.
The coolness of the air round the motionless pool enticed the weary
wanderer to rest by it a while. Universal silence prevailed, only that
in the forest thickets the nightingales' songs were heard. An
overpowering drowsiness closed his eyes; his tired limbs relaxed, and
his head nodded.
"Ah! am I going to sleep?" he said, rising and rubbing his eyes.
He looked round; the night seemed to him still more beautiful. The
moonlight seemed to have an intoxicating quality about it, a glamour
which he had never perceived before. The landscape was veiled in a
silver mist. The air was redolent with the perfume of the apple-blossoms
and the night-flowers. Entranced, he gazed on the motionless pool. The
old, half-ruined house was clearly reflected without a quiver in the
water. But instead of dark shutters, he saw light streaming from
brilliantly lit windows. Presently one of them opened. Holding his
breath, and without moving a muscle, he fastened his eyes on the pool
and seemed to penetrate its depths. What did he see? First he saw at the
window a graceful, curly head with shining eyes, propped on a white arm;
the head moved and smiled. His heart suddenly began to beat. The water
began to break into ripples, and the window closed.
Quietly he withdrew from the pool, and looked towards the house. The
dark shutters were flung back; the window-panes gleamed in the
moonlight. "How little one can believe what people say!" he thought to
himself. "The house is brand-new, and looks as though it had only just
been painted. It is certainly inhabited."
He stepped nearer cautiously, but the house was quite silent. The clear
song of the nightingales rose powerfully and distinctly on the air, and
as they died away one heard the chirping and rustling of the
grasshoppers, and the marshbird clapping his slippery beak in the water.
Levko felt enraptured with the sweetness and stillness of the night. He
struck the strings of his guitar and sang:
"Oh lovely moon
Thou steepst in light
The house where my darling
Sleeps all night."
A window opened gently, and the same girl whose image he had seen in the
pool looked out and listened attentively to the song. Her long-lashed
eyelids were partly drooping over her eyes; she was as pale as the
moonlight, but wonderfully beautiful. She smiled, and a shiver ran
through Levko.
"Sing me a song, young Cossack!" she said gently, bending her head
sideways and quite closing her eyes.
"What song shall I sing you, dear girl?"
Tears rolled down her pale cheeks. "Cossack," she said, and there was
something inexpressibly touching in her tone, "Cossack, find my
stepmother for me. I will do everything for you; I will reward you; I
will give you abundant riches. I have armlets embroidered with silk and
coral necklaces; I will give you a girdle set with pearls. I have gold.
Cossack, seek my stepmother for me. She is a terrible witch; she allowed
me no peace in the beautiful world. She tortured me; she made me work
like a common maid-servant. Look at my face; she has banished the
redness from my cheeks with her unholy magic. Look at my white neck;
they cannot be washed away, they cannot be washed away--the blue marks
of her iron claws. Look at my white feet; they did not walk on carpets,
but on hot sand, on damp ground, on piercing thorns. And my eyes--look
at them; they are almost blind with weeping. Seek my stepmother!"
Her voice, which had gradually become louder, stopped, and she wept.
The Cossack felt overpowered by sympathy and grief. "I am ready to do
everything to please you, dear lady," he cried with deep emotion; "but
where and how can I find her?"
"Look, look!" she said quickly, "she is here! She dances on the
lake-shore with my maidens, and warms herself in the moonlight. Yet she
is cunning and sly. She has assumed the shape of one who is drowned, yet
I know and hear that she is present. I am so afraid of her. Because of
her I cannot swim free and light as a fish. I sink and fall to the
bottom like a piece of iron. Look for her, Cossack!"
Levko cast a glance at the lake-shore. In a silvery mist there moved,
like shadows, girls in white dresses decked with May flowers; gold
necklaces and coins gleamed on their necks; but they were very pale, as
though formed of transparent clouds. They danced nearer him, and he
could hear their voices, somewhat like the sound of reeds stirred in the
quiet evening by the breeze.
"Let us play the raven-game! Let us play the raven-game!"
"Who will be the raven?"
Lots were cast, and a girl stepped out of the line of the dancers.
Levko observed her attentively. Her face and clothing resembled those of
the others; but she was evidently unwilling to play the part assigned
her. The dancers revolved rapidly round her, without her being able to
catch one of them.
"No, I won't be the raven any more," she said, quite exhausted. "I do
not like to rob the poor mother-hen of her chickens."
"You are not a witch," thought Levko.
The girls again gathered together in order to cast lots who should be
the raven.
"I will be the raven!" called one from the midst.
Levko watched her closely. Boldly and rapidly she ran after the dancers,
and made every effort to catch her prey. Levko began to notice that her
body was not transparent like the others; there was something black in
the midst of it. Suddenly there was a cry; the "raven" had rushed on a
girl, embraced her, and it seemed to Levko as though she had stretched
out claws, and as though her face shone with malicious joy.
"Witch!" he cried out, pointing at her suddenly with his finger, and
turning towards the house.
The girl at the window laughed, and the other girls dragged the "raven"
screaming along with them.
"How shall I reward you, Cossack?" said the maiden. "I know you do not
need gold; you love Hanna, but her harsh father will not allow you to
marry. But give him this note, and he will cease to hinder it."
She stretched out her white hand, and her face shone wonderfully. With
strange shudders and a beating heart, he grasped the paper and--awoke.