“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 tomorrow 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 tomorrow; 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!”
XXXVI
Pan
