Pan Michael was looking continually at the door, through which Basia had vanished, and in which he hoped any moment to see Krysia, the beloved, radiant with quiet joy, bright, with gleaming eyes, and hair twisted up in a hurry; meanwhile, the Dantzig clock standing in the dining-room ticked and ticked, an hour passed, supper was brought, and the maiden beloved and dear to Pan Michael did not appear in the room.
At last Basia came in, but alone, serious somehow, and gloomy; she approached the table, and taking a light in her hand, turned to Pan Makovetski: “Krysia is somewhat unwell, and will not come; but she begs uncle to come, even near the door, so that she may greet him.”
Pan Makovetski rose at once and went out, followed by Basia.
The little knight became terribly gloomy and said, “I did not think that I should fail to see Panna Krysia tonight. Is she really ill?”
“Ei! she is well,” answered his sister; “but people are nothing to her now.”
“Why is that?”
“Then has his grace, Pan Zagloba, not spoken of her intention?”
“Of what intention, by the wounds of God?”
“She is going to a convent.”
Pan Michael began to blink like a man who has not heard all that is said to him; then he changed in the face, stood up, sat down again. In one moment sweat covered his face with drops; then he began to wipe it with his palms. In the room there was deep silence.
“Michael!” said his sister.
But he looked confusedly now on her, now on Zagloba, and said at last in a terrible voice, “Is there some curse hanging over me?”
“Have God in your heart!” cried Zagloba.
XIX
Zagloba and Pani Makovetski divined by that exclamation the secret of the little knight’s heart; and when he sprang up suddenly and left the room, they looked at each other with amazement and disquiet, till at last the lady said, “For God’s sake go after him! persuade him; comfort him; if not, I will go myself.”
“Do not do that,” said Zagloba. “There is no need of us there, but Krysia is needed; if he cannot see her, it is better to leave him alone, for untimely comforting leads people to still greater despair.”
“I see now, as on my palm, that he was inclined to Krysia. See, I knew that he liked her greatly and sought her company; but that he was so lost in her never came to my head.”
“It must be that he returned with a proposition ready, in which he saw his own happiness; meanwhile a thunderbolt, as it were, fell.”
“Why did he speak of this to no one, neither to me, nor to you, nor to Krysia herself? Maybe the girl would not have made her vow.”
“It is a wonderful thing,” said Zagloba; “besides, he confides in me, and trusts my head more than his own; and not merely has he not acknowledged this affection to me, but even said once that it was friendship, nothing more.”
“He was always secretive.”
“Then though you are his sister, you don’t know him. His heart is like the eyes of a sole, on top. I have never met a more outspoken man; but I admit that he has acted differently this time. Are you sure that he said nothing to Krysia?”
“God of power! Krysia is mistress of her own will, for my husband as guardian has said to her, ‘If the man is worthy and of honorable blood, you may overlook his property.’ If Michael had spoken to her before his departure, she would have answered yes or no, and he would have known what to look for.”
“True, because this has struck him unexpectedly. Now give your woman’s wit to this business.”
“What is wit here? Help is needed.”
“Let him take Basia.”
“But if, as is evident, he prefers that one—Ha! if this had only come into my head.”
“It is a pity that it did not.”
“How could it when it did not enter the head of such a Solomon as you?”
“And how do you know that?”
“You advised Ketling.”
“I? God is my witness, I advised no man. I said that he was inclined to her, and it was true; I said that he was a worthy cavalier, for that was and is true; but I leave matchmaking to women. My lady, as things are, half the Commonwealth is resting on my head. Have I even time to think of anything but public affairs? Often I have not a minute to put a spoonful of food in my mouth.”
“Advise us this time, for God’s mercy! All around I hear only this, that there is no head beyond yours.”
“People are talking of this head of mine without ceasing; they might rest awhile. As to counsels, there are two: either let Michael take Basia, or let Krysia change her intention; an intention is not a vow.”
Now Pan Makovetski came in; his wife told him everything straightway. The noble was greatly grieved, for he loved Pan Michael uncommonly and valued him; but for the time he could think out nothing.
“If Krysia will be obstinate,” said he, rubbing his forehead, “how can you use even arguments in such an affair?”
“Krysia will be obstinate!” said Pani Makovetski. “Krysia has always been that way.”
“What was in Michael’s head that he did not make sure before departing?” asked Pan Makovetski. “As he left matters, something worse might have happened; another might have won the girl’s heart in his absence.”
“In that case, she would not have chosen the cloister at once,” said Pani Makovetski. “However, she is free.”
“True!” answered Makovetski.
But already it was dawning in Zagloba’s head. If the secret of Krysia and Pan Michael had been known to him, all would have been clear to him at once; but without that
