“Would that all were like you!” sighed Olenka.
“Surely you have now in mind that man of violence who dared to raise his godless hand against you.”
Panna Aleksandra fixed her eyes on the floor, and said not a word.
“He has received pay for his deeds,” continued Volodyovski, “though it is said that he will recover, still he will not escape punishment. All honorable people condemn him, and even too much; for they say that he had relations with the enemy so as to obtain reinforcements—which is untrue, for those men with whom he attacked you did not come from the enemy, but were collected on the highway.”
“How do you know that?” asked the lady, raising her blue eyes to Volodyovski.
“From the Cossacks themselves. He is a wonderful man, that Kmita; for when I accused him of treason before the duel he made no denial, though I accused him unjustly. It is clear that there is a devilish pride in him.”
“And have you said everywhere that he is not a traitor?”
“I have not, for I did not know that he was not a traitor; but now I will say so. It is wrong to cast such a calumny even on our own greatest enemy.”
Panna Aleksandra’s eyes rested a second time on the little knight with an expression of sympathy and gratitude. “You are so honorable a man that your equal is rare.”
Volodyovski fell to twitching his mustaches time after time with contentment. “To business, Michael dear!” said he, mentally. Then aloud to the lady: “I will say more: I blame Pan Kmita’s method, but I do not wonder that he tried to obtain you, my lady, in whose service Venus herself might act as a maid. Despair urged him on to an evil deed, and will surely urge him a second time, should opportunity offer. How will you remain alone, with such beauty and without protection? There are more men like Kmita in the world; you will rouse more such ardors, and will expose your honor to fresh perils. God sent me favor that I was able to free you, but now the trumpets of Gradivus call me. Who will watch over you? My gracious lady, they accuse soldiers of fickleness, but unjustly. Neither is my heart of rock, and it cannot remain indifferent to so many excellent charms.”
Here Volodyovski fell on both knees before Olenka. “My gracious lady,” said he, while kneeling, “I inherited the command after your grandfather; let me inherit the granddaughter too. Give me guardianship over you; let me enjoy the bliss of mutual affection. Take me as a perpetual protection, and you will be at rest and free from care, for though I go to the war my name itself will defend you.”
The lady sprang from the chair and heard Pan Volodyovski with astonishment; but he still spoke on:—
“I am a poor soldier, but a noble, and a man of honor. I swear to you that on my shield and on my conscience not the slightest stain can be found. I am at fault perhaps in this haste; but understand too that I am called by the country, which will not yield even for you. Will you not comfort me—will you not give me solace, will you not say a kind word?”
“You ask the impossible. As God lives, that cannot be!” answered Olenka, with fright.
“It depends on your will.”
“For that reason I say no to you promptly.” Here she frowned. “Worthy sir, I am indebted to you much, I do not deny it. Ask what you like, I am ready to give everything except my hand.”
Pan Volodyovski rose. “Then you do not wish me, my lady? Is that true?”
“I cannot.”
“And that is your last word?”
“The last and irrevocable word.”
“Perhaps the haste only has displeased you. Give me some hope.”
“I cannot, I cannot.”
“Then there is no success for me here, as elsewhere there was none. My worthy lady, offer not pay for services, I have not come for that; and if I ask your hand it is not as pay, but from your own goodwill. Were you to say that you give it because you must, I would not take it. Where there is no freedom there is no happiness. You have disdained me. God grant that a worse do not meet you. I go from this house as I entered, save this that I shall not come here again. I am accounted here as nobody. Well, let it be so. Be happy even with that very Kmita, for perhaps you are angry because I placed a sabre between you. If he seems better to you, then in truth you are not for me.”
Olenka seized her temples with her hands, and repeated a number of times: “O God! O God! O God!”
But that pain of hers made no impression on Volodyovski, who, when he had bowed, went out angry and wrathful; then he mounted at once and rode off.
“A foot of mine shall never stand there again!” said he, aloud.
His attendant Syruts riding behind pushed up at once. “What does your grace say?”
“Blockhead!” answered Volodyovski.
“You told me that when we were coming hither.”
Silence followed; then Volodyovski began to mutter again: “Ah, I was entertained there with ingratitude, paid for affection with contempt. It will come to me surely to serve in the cavalry till death; that is fated. Such a devil of a lot fell to me—every move a refusal! There is no justice on earth. What did she find against me?”
Here Pan Michael frowned, and began to work
