They swayed to the rhythm of their voices, which rose as on many-coloured pinions, and sped through the dead stillness of the night in a star-seeking, fiery rush.
And now, completely beside themselves, they strode along, each leaning on the other, driven on by a blind impulse, lost in their mutual love, oblivious of all things, entranced by the spell of a superhuman emotion, which lifted them up to the topmost heights of entrancement, and forced its way out in that timeless, formless, almost wordless chant of theirs!
A wild and a stormy chant it was, rushing torrentially out of their burning hearts, and pouring forth into the world with its all-conquering strain of love!
How it flamed in the sombre chaos of the night! How it lit up the wilds like a bush burning in the desert!
Now it was like the dull and ponderous growl of the waters, when they arise in their strength, and shatter their icy bonds.
Now it was scarce to be heard—a sweet melodious whisper, sounding and rustling faintly, like corn that waves in the sunshine!
And, after a while, it resembled the lay of frightened birds that rise to the sun on frenzied fluttering wings, and at last (their bosoms expanded with soaring up towards those infinite heights) utter forth the triumphant hymn of the earth, the immortal cry of life and existence!
“Yagna!” Antek whispered, as if surprised to know she was by his side.
“Here I am.”—But her reply seemed subdued and sorrowful.
They were now upon the pathway that skirted the village, at some distance outside of the encircling granaries, but on the side next to Boryna’s farm.
All at once, Yagna burst out crying.
“Why, what is amiss?”
“I cannot tell: something has come over me, and forced the tears to start.”
Greatly distressed, he made her sit down with him close to a granary with outstanding beams; there he gathered her tenderly in his arms, rocking her on his breast like a child. Her tears continued to flow, as dew distilling from flowers; he wiped them away, but they still flowed on.
“Are you afraid of anything?”
“Of what, pray? Only within me there waxes a stillness as though Death stood here beside me; yet all the while something lifts me up, so that I would fain climb the sky, and sail away among the clouds.”
He replied nothing. The light had all at once gone out of their souls; a shadow passing over them troubled their calm and bore in upon them a strange sense of longing, which made them cling yet closer one to the other, and seek yet more earnestly to find mutual support, each vying with the other in the desire to flee away into some unknown world.
The wind rose; the trees rocked in ghastly wise, covering them both with moist snow; the close-pressed louring clouds began to fall swiftly asunder and roll away, while a low tremulous moan floated across the fields.
“ ’Tis late, ’tis late; we must run home,” she whispered, half rising.
“Do not fear: people are not yet asleep: I can hear them on the road.—Coming back from Klemba’s, belike.”
“But I left the food-tubs in the byre; the kine may break their legs on them.”
The voices they heard grew louder and then fainter again and more remote, while they stood silent. But on one side of them—on the very same pathway, it seemed—the snow crunched crisply, and a tall shadow came out of the gloom, showing so plain that they both started to their feet.
“Someone is there, skulking behind that hedge!”
“That’s mere fancy: night-clouds often throw such moving shadows.”
They peered long into the darkness, listening intently.
“Come,” he then whispered to her, “let us go to the haystack: we shall be more at ease there.”
Looking round anxiously every now and then, they held their breath as they stopped to listen; but all was as still as death. So on they went, stooping forward cautiously, till they got to the haystack, and disappeared in the deep opening that yawned just above the ground.
All was pitch-dark again; the clouds had come together, forming an impenetrable mass: the pale starlight was quenched, and the night, closing its eyes, had fallen into a deep sleep. The stillness grew yet more intense, more awful, broken only by the waving of the snow-burdened trees, and the water babbling under the mill-wheels far, far away.
But after a long interval, the snow upon the road crackled once more beneath steps—still, stealthy steps like the tread of a wolf. A shadow passed along, close to the walls, and, crouching down, made its way through the snow, ever nearer and nearer. … It grew larger … stopped many a time, to go forward again … passed round the hayrick on the outer side and, creeping up to the opening, listened long and closely.
Then it went away to the stile, and vanished among the trees.
About a minute afterwards, it appeared again, bearing a truss of straw. It stopped, listened awhile, and then, springing forward to the haystack, thrust the truss of straw into the hole, rammed it in tight … and struck a match. Instantly the straw was in flames and shot out many a blazing tongue, which presently burst into a sheet of red fire, spreading all over one side of the rick.
And Boryna, pitchfork in hand, head lowered, stood there watching, white as a sheet!
They at once realized their position; a ruddy glow already lit the darkness of the den where they lay, and a pungent smoke filled the air. They beat wildly about on one side and another, finding no issue, maddened with horror, and scarcely able to breath. But, by marvellous good luck, Antek happened upon the tarpaulin cover and, pushing with all his might, tore it down, falling to the ground along with it. Ere he
