“Weeping in bitter woe, the woman knelt down before the statue of Our Lady of Chenstohova, and sobbed and besought mercy for him from the bottom of her heart.
“And the Holy Virgin took pity, and spake to her:
“ ‘Woman,’ she said, ‘weep not: thy prayer is granted.’
“And down she came from the altar, just as she was: crowned with gold, clad in her azure star-besprinkled mantle, and with a rosary dangling at her side … she, the Holy Mother, like unto the morning star, all beaming with loving-kindness! The woman fell upon her face before her.
“With her sacred hands she raised her up compassionately, wiped away her tears, and said tenderly:
“ ‘Take me to thy cabin, faithful servant; it may be that I can do something.’
“She looked on the dying sinner, and her merciful heart yearned within her at the sight.
“ ‘Thy husband must not die without a priest: the power to shrive, that priests have received from God, is not mine; for I am but a woman. That priest is an evildoer, and cares not for his flock. For that will he answer to God; but he alone can give absolution. … I will go myself to the manor and fetch this gambler thence.—Here is my rosary: keep the fiends at bay with it till I come back.’
“But how was she to go? The night was dark, windy, rainy, miry. It was far to go, besides; and moreover, the fiends set up obstacles everywhere to prevent her.
“Our Heavenly Lady dreaded none of these things. She only muffled herself in a sheet of coarse drugget against the foul weather, and went out into the darkness.
“Exhausted and quite drenched, she arrived at the manor, knocked at the door, and humbly begged the priest to come to a sick man; but, supposing her to be some poor woman, and knowing how stormy it was out of doors, he sent her word that he would come next day, being too busy just then. So he went on playing, drinking, and enjoying himself with the gentlemen there.
“Our Lord’s Mother sighed deeply at his evil behaviour; but, causing a gilded coach and horses and servants to appear at once, she went into the room, arrayed in the garb of a castellan’s lady.
“Of course the priest set out with her at once and very eagerly.
“They arrived, but only just in time; the man was almost at his last gasp, and the fiends were making efforts to rush in and carry him alive to hell, before the priest arrived with the Sacred Host.
“The Hawk confessed, repented, was shriven, and gave up the ghost. Our Lady herself closed his eyes; then, when she had blessed his widow, she turned to the bewildered priest and said:
“ ‘Follow thou me!’
“He did so, ever more and more amazed; but, looking out of the cabin-door, saw neither coach nor servants—only rain, mire, darkness—and Death dogging each of his steps! Mightily afraid, he followed our Lady to the chapel.
“Then he beheld her, now in her mantle and crown, surrounded with a choir of angels, as she again took her place upon the altar.
“Then he knew her for the queen of Heaven, and was terrified. Falling on his knees, he wept aloud, and begged her to have mercy.
“But the Blessed Virgin eyed him with indignation, and said:
“ ‘Many a century shalt thou kneel here in penance for thy sins, ere thou hast atoned for them!’
“And immediately he turned into stone, and remained in that posture, weeping every night, holding out his hands to her, and awaiting the hour of pardon. Thus has he been kneeling for ages and ages.
“Amen! …
“Even at the present day, that same priest is to be seen in Dombrova. The stone figure stands outside the church, in perpetual memory of the fact, and as a warning to all sinners.”
All listened with attention; all were subdued, filled with wonder, awed and silenced.
For what could they say at such a moment—when the soul, expanding like the iron which glows red-hot in the fire, is so flooded with emotion and splendour that one has but to strike upon it, and it shoots forth a starry shower, becoming, as it were, a rainbow suspended between earth and heaven?
And so they remained, hushed and silent, until the glow that then filled them had dwindled and faded away.
Matthew took out his flute, and the touch of his cunning fingers brought forth the anthem, “To Thy Protection, Holy Mother of God. …” with its touching, measureless, opalescent melody, like gossamer-besprinkled dewdrops; and they all, in low voices, took up the anthem after him.
And then, little by little, one by one, they went back to their everyday mood and talk.
After a time the young people smiled and laughed; for Teresa, the soldier’s wife, was asking them funny riddles. In a while, someone coming in said that Boryna was back from the law-court, and drinking in the tavern with his companions: at which Yagna quickly and quietly slipped out. Antek slipped out too, catching up with her at the outer entrance on the very threshold; he seized her hand fast, and led her on to the outer yard, and through the orchard, beyond the barns and granaries.
XI
Past the orchard, gliding swiftly, stooping forward as they went under the snow-laden boughs, they ran like frightened deer along by the barns and into the murky snow-plain, into the starless night, into the unfathomable stillness of the frozen waste.
So, speeding on, swallowed up by the shadows, they presently forgot all the rest of the world. Each, with arm round the other’s waist, seized in a tight grasp, ran along with rapid steps, bending down, hip to hip—rejoicing, yet with fear, silent, yet with hearts full of song—athwart the bluish livid obscurity which enveloped them.
“Yagna?”
“Dearest?”
“Are you really here?”
“Can you doubt it?”
They said no more, and were at times forced to stop and take breath.
Unable to speak for the throbbing
