The Knights of the Cross/Volume 1/Chapter 11
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CHAPTER XI. The old man was not mistaken when he said that Zbyshko and Yagenka were glad to be together, and even that they yearned for each other. Yagenka, under pretext of visiting the sick Matsko, came frequently to Bogdanets, with her father or alone. Zbyshko, through simple gratitude, looked in from time to time at Zyh's, so that soon in the course of days close intimacy and friendship grew up between them. They began to like each other and to consult together willingly, which meant "to talk" about everything which could concern them. There was also a little mutual admiration in this friendship. For the young, stately Zbyshko, who had distinguished himself in war, taken part in tournaments, and been in kings' chambers, seemed to the girl a real courtly knight, almost a king's son in comparison with Stan or Vilk; and he at times was astonished at the beauty of Yageuka. He remembered his Danusia faithfully, but more than once when he looked at Yagenka on a sudden, whether in the house or the forest, he said to himself involuntarily, "Ei! that's a deer!" but when he caught her by the waist, placed her on horseback, and felt under his hands her body firm as if cut from stone, disquiet took hold of him, and as Matsko said, "shivers" seized the youth, and something passed through his bones and deadened him like a dream. Yagenka, haughty by nature, quick to laugh, and even to attack, grew more obedient to him gradually, altogether like a servant who only looks into the eyes to learn how to serve and to please. He understood this great inclination of hers, he was grateful, and it was more and more agreeable for him to be with her. At last, especially since Matsko had begun to drink bear's fat, they saw each other almost daily, and after the arrow splinter came out they went together for a beaver to get fresh fat, greatly needed to heal the wound. They took crossbows, mounted their horses, and rode on, first to Mochydoly, which was to be Yagenka's dower, then toward the forest, where they left the horses with a servant, and went farther on foot, since it was difficult to ride through swamps and thickets. On the road Yagenka pointed out broad meadows covered with weeds, as well as a blue line of forests. "Those forests belong to Stan of Rogov," said she. "To him who would be glad to take thee." "He would take if I would only give myself," said she, laughing. "Thou canst defend thyself easily, having Vilk as assistant, who, as I hear, grits his teeth at the other. It is a wonder to me that a challenge to the death has not passed between them already." "It has not because papa, when he was going to the war, said: 'If ye fight I shall not set eyes on either of you.' What were they to do? When at our house they fume at each other, but drink at the inn afterward in Kresnia together till they fall under the table." "Stupid fellows!" "Why?" "Because when Zyh was not at home, one or the other ought to have made an attack and taken thee forcibly. What could Zyh have done, if on his return he had found thee with a child in thy arms?" Yagenka's blue eyes flashed at once. "Dost thou think that I would have yielded?—or that we have not people, or that I cannot handle a spear, or a crossbow? If they had tried! I should have hunted each man of them home; besides, I should myself have attacked Brozova or Rogov. Papa knows that he can go to the war very safely." Thus speaking she wrinkled her beautiful brows, and shook the crossbows so threateningly that Zbyshko laughed and said,— "Well, thou shouldst be a knight, not a maiden." But she grew calm and said,— "Stan guarded me from Vilk, and Vilk from Stan. I was under the care of the abbot, moreover, and it is better for every man not to dispute with the abbot." "Oh, indeed!" answered Zbyshko; "every one here fears the abbot. But I, so help me Saint George as I speak the truth, should have feared neither the abbot nor Zyh, nor the hunters at thy father's house, nor thee, but I would have taken thee—" At this Yagenka stopped on the spot, and raising her eyes to Zbyshko, inquired with a certain strange, mild, halting voice,— "Wouldst thou have taken me?" Then her lips parted, and she waited for the answer, blushing like the dawn. But clearly he was thinking only of what he would have done in the place of Vilk or Stan, for after a while he shook his golden head, and said,— "Why should a maiden fight with men, when she has to marry? If a third one does not come, thou must choose one of them, for how—" "Do not say that to me," answered she, sadly. "Why not? I have not been here long, hence I know not whether there is any one near by who would please thee more." "Ah!" exclaimed Yagenka. "Give me peace!" They went on in silence, pushing forward through the thicket, which was all the denser because the brush and trees were covered with wild hops. Zbyshko went ahead, tearing apart the green ropes, breaking branches here and there. Yagenka pushed after him, with crossbow on her shoulders, resembling some hunting goddess. "Beyond this thicket," said she, "is a deep stream, but I know a ford." "I have leggings to the knees, we shall pass over dry," answered Zbyshko. After a time they reached the water. Yagenka, knowing the Mochydoly forest well, found the ford easily. It turned out, however, that the little stream had risen from rain somewhat, and was rather deep. Then Zbyshko, without a question, caught the girl up in his arms. "I could go on foot," said Yagenka. "Hold to my neck!" said Zbyshko. He went through the swollen water slowly, trying with his foot at every step whether there was not a deep place, she nestled up to him according to command; at last, when they were not far from the other shore, she said,— "Zbyshko!" "Well?" "I will not have either Stan or Vilk." Meanwhile he carried her over, put her down carefully on the gravel, and said with some agitation,— "May God give thee the best one! He will not suffer." It was not far to the lake now. Yagenka, going in advance this time, turned at moments and, putting her finger to her lips, enjoined silence on Zbyshko. They advanced through a clump of gray weeping-willows, over wet and low ground. From the right hand the uproar of birds flew to them. Zbyshko wondered at this; for at that season birds had already departed. "This is a swamp that never freezes," said Yagenka; "ducks winter here, but even in the lake water freezes only at the shore in time of great frost. See how it steams!" Zbyshko looked through the willows and saw before him, as it were, a cloud of mist; that was Odstayani Lake. Yagenka put her finger to her lips again, and after a while they arrived. First the girl climbed in silence a large old weeping-willow bent over the water completely. Zbyshko climbed another, and for a long time they lay in silence without seeing anything in front of them because of the mist, hearing only the complaining call of mews above their heads. At last the wind shook the willows with their yellow leaves, and disclosed the sunken surface of the lake, wrinkled somewhat by the breeze, and unoccupied. "Is there nothing to be seen?" whispered Zbyshko. "Nothing to be seen. Be quiet!" After a while the breeze fell and perfect silence followed. On the surface of the water appeared a dark head, then a second; but at last, and much nearer, a bulky beaver let himself down from the bank to the water, with a freshly cut limb in his mouth, and began to swim through the duckweed and cane, keeping his jaws in the air, and pushing the limb before him. Zbyshko, lying on a tree somewhat lower than Yagenka, saw all at once how her elbow moved silently, and how her head bent forward; evidently she was aiming at the animal, which suspected no danger, and was swimming not farther than half a shot distant, toward the open surface of the lake. At last the string of the crossbow groaned, and at the same moment Yagenka cried,— "Struck! struck!" Zbyshko climbed higher in a twinkle of an eye, and looked through the branches at the water. The beaver was diving, and coming to the surface, plunging, and showing at moments his belly more than his back. "He has got it well! He will be quiet soon!" said Yagenka. She had told the truth, for the movements of the animal grew fainter and fainter, and at the end of one Hail Mary he came to the surface belly upward, "I will go to bring him," said Zbyshko. "Go not. Here at this shore is an ooze as deep as the height of many men. Whoever does not know how to manage will be drowned surely." "But how shall we get him?" "He will be in Bogdanets this evening. Let not thy head ache over that; but for us it is time to go." "But thou hast shot him well!" "Oh, he is not my first beaver." "Other girls are afraid to look at a crossbow, but with such as thou one might hunt through the forests for a lifetime." Yagenka, on hearing this praise, smiled with pleasure, but said nothing, and they returned by the same road through the willows. Zbyshko inquired about the beaver dam, and she told him how many beavers there were in Mochydoly, how many in Zgorzelitse, and how they waded along the paths and mounds. On a sudden she struck her hip with her hand. "Oh," cried she, "I have forgotten my arrows on the willow! Wait here." And before he could answer that he would go himself for them, she had sprung away like a deer, and vanished from his sight in a moment. Zbyshko waited and waited; at last he began to wonder why she was gone so long. "She must have lost her arrows, and is looking for them," said he to himself; "I will go to see if anything has happened." He had gone barely a few steps when the girl stood before him with the crossbow in her hand, the beaver on her shoulder, her face ruddy and smiling. "For God's sake!" cried Zbyshko, "but how didst thou get him?" "How? I went into the water! It is not the first time for me; I would not let you go, for if a man does not know how to swim there the ooze will swallow him." "But I have been waiting here, like an idiot! Thou art a cunning girl!" "Well, and what? Was I to undress before thee, or how?" "So thou hadst not forgotten the arrows?" "No, I only wanted to lead thee away from the water." "Well! but if I had followed thee, I should have seen a wonder. There would have been something to wonder at! Would there not?" "Be quiet!" "As God is dear to me, I should have gone!" "Stop!" After a while, wishing evidently to change the conversation, she said,— "Squeeze out my hair, for it wets my shoulders." Zbyshko grasped her tresses near her head with one hand, with the other he twisted them, saying,— "Better unbraid them, the wind will dry thy hair immediately." But she would not because of the thicket through which she had to push. Zbyshko took the beaver on his shoulder. "Matsko will recover now quickly," said Yagenka, walking ahead; "there is no better remedy than bear's fat to drink, and beaver's fat to rub outside. He will be on horseback in a fortnight." "God grant!" said Zbyshko. " I await that as salvation, for I cannot in any way leave him sick, but for me it is a punishment to stay here." "Punishment for thee to stay here?" inquired Yagenka. "How so?" "Has Zyh told thee nothing of Danusia?" "He told me something—I know—that she covered thee with a veil—I know—he told me also that every knight makes some vow, that he will serve his lady—But he said that such a service was nothing—for some men, though married, serve a lady; and that Danusia—Zbyshko, what is she? Tell me? Who is Danusia?" And, pushing up nearer, she raised her eyes and began to look with great alarm at his face. Without paying the least heed to her voice of alarm and her gaze, he said,— "She is my lady, but also my dearest love. I do not say that to any one, but I will say it to thee as my beloved sister, for we know each other from the time that we were little. I would follow her beyond the ninth river, and beyond the ninth sea, to the Germans, and to the Tartars, for in the whole world there is not such another. Let uncle stay here in Bogdanets, but I will go straight to Danusia. For what is Bogdanets to me without her, what are utensils and herds, and the wealth of the abbot! I will mount a horse and go against the Germans, so help me God! What I have vowed to her I will accomplish, unless I fall first." "I did not know this," said Yagenka, in a dull voice. Zbyshko then told how he had become acquainted with Danusia in Tynets, how he had made a vow to her immediately, and all that had happened afterward, hence his imprisonment, and how Danusia had rescued him, Yurand's refusal, their farewell, his longing, and finally his delight that after Matsko's recovery he would be able to go to the beloved maiden, and do what he had promised. The narrative was only interrupted at sight of the man waiting with horses at the edge of the forest. Yagenka mounted her horse at once, and began to take leave of Zbyshko. "Let the man take the beaver with thee, but I will go home." "But wilt thou not go to Bogdanets? Zyh is there." "No, papa was to return, and he told me to go home." "Well, God reward thee for the beaver." "With God!" And after a while Yagenka was alone. While riding homeward through the heather, she looked some time after Zbyshko, and when at last he had vanished behind the trees, she covered her eyes with one hand, as if guarding them from sunrays. But soon from beneath her hand great tears flowed along her cheeks and fell one after the other, like peas, on the mane of the horse and the saddle.
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