"They are deadly fellows! They will wound him; but What of that?"
"How, what of that? If he fights for Yagenka, how can he think of Yurand's daughter? Yagenka will be his lady—not that one; this is what I want, for he is my relative, and pleases me."
"But the vow?"
"While he is waiting, I will absolve him. Have you not heard me promise already?"
"Your head is equal to anything," answered Zyh.
The abbot was pleased with the praise; he pushed up to Yagenka, and inquired,—
"Why art thou so serious?"
She bent in the saddle, and, seizing the abbot's hand, raised it to her lips. "Godfather, but maybe you would send a couple of 'playmen' to Kresnia?"
"What for? They would get drunk in the inn, nothing more."
"But they might prevent some quarrel."
The abbot looked her quickly in the eyes, and said, with some harshness,—
"Even should they kill him!"
"Then let them kill me," cried Yagenka.
And the bitterness which had collected with sorrow in her breast from the time of talking with Zbyshko flowed down now in a sudden flood of tears. Seeing this, the abbot embraced the girl with one arm, so that he covered her almost with his immense sleeve.
"Fear not, my daughter," said he. "A quarrel may happen; but still those two are nobles, they will not attack him together, but will challenge him to the field according to knightly custom; and there he will help himself, even had he to fight with both at one time. And as to Yurand's daughter of whom thou hast heard, there are no trees growing in any forest for that bed."
"Since she is dearer to him, I do not care for him," answered Yagenka, through her tears.
"Then why art thou sniffling?"
"I am afraid that some one will harm him."
"There is woman's wit!" said the abbot, laughing. Then, bending down to Yagenka's ear, he said,—
"Moderate thyself, girl, though he should marry thee, it will happen him to fight more than once; a noble is for that work." Here he bent still lower, and added,—
