put his hand to his thick moist lips repeatedly; De Lorche was astonished, raised both hands, and inquired,—
"By Saint lago of Compostello, who is that maiden?"
To this Danveld, who with his fatness was of low stature, rose a finger's length, and said in the ear of the Knight of Lorraine,—
"The devil's daughter."
De Lorche looked at him, blinked, then frowned, and said with nasal accent,—
"He is not a true knight who calumniates beauty."
"I wear golden spurs, and I am a monk," replied Hugo, with haughtiness.
So great was the respect for belted knights that De Lorche dropped his head; but after a while he replied,—
"I am a blood relative of the princes of Brabant."
"Pax! Pax! (Peace! Peace!)," said the Knight of the Cross. "Honor to the powerful princes and friends of the Order, from whose hands you will receive golden spurs shortly. I do not deny beauty to that maiden, but hear who her father is."
He was not able, however, to tell, for at that moment Prince Yanush took his seat, and learning previously from the Starosta of Yansbork of the great connections of De Lorche, he gave a sign to him to sit near. Opposite Prince Yanush sat the princess with Danusia. Zbyshko took his place, as in Cracow, behind their chairs, at their service. Danusia held her head over the dish as low as possible, for she felt shame in the presence of people, but a little to one side, so that Zbyshko might see her face. He looked eagerly and with rapture at her small bright head, at her rosy cheeks, at her shoulders dressed in a closely fitting garment,—shoulders which had ceased to be those of a child,—and he felt rising in him, as it were, a river of new love which would inundate his whole being. He felt also on his eyes, on his lips, on his face her recent kisses. She had given them before as a sister to a brother, and he had received them as from a dear child. Now at the fresh remembrance of them this happened which happened when he was with Yagenka,—shivers seized him, and a faintness possessed him beneath which was hidden a warmth, like a fire covered with ashes. Danusia seemed to him an entirely grown lady, for she had bloomed in reality and matured. Besides, so much had been said in her presence of love, and so frequently, that as a bunch of flowers warmed with sun rays grows
