"It may be that he is not sleeping; for his breast moves tremendously."
"Have you tried to speak with him?"
"I have tried, but he gives no answer, and I think that he will not speak before daylight."
"We will wait for daylight," said the princess.
The priest insisted that she should go to rest, but she would not listen to him. It was with her a question always and in everything to equal in Christian virtues, and, therefore, in nursing the sick, the late queen, Yadviga, and redeem her father's soul by her merits; hence, in a country which had been Christian for centuries she missed no opportunity to show herself more zealous than others, and thus efface the remembrance that she had been born in pagan error. Moreover, the wish was burning her to learn something from Yurand touching Danusia; for she was not altogether at rest concerning her. So, sitting down at the side of his couch, she began to repeat the rosary, and then to doze. Zbyshko, who was not entirely well yet, and who in addition had labored immensely in the riding of the night, soon followed her example, and after an hour they had both fallen asleep so soundly that they would have slept till a late hour, perhaps, had not the bell of the castle chapel roused them at daybreak.
It roused Yurand also, who opened his eyes, sat erect on the couch quickly, and looked around with blinking eyes.
"Praised be Jesus Christ! How is it with you?" asked the princess.
But apparently he had not regained consciousness; for he looked at the princess as though he knew her not.
"Come this way! come this way to dig the drift!" called he after a moment.
"In God's name! You are in Tsehanov!" cried the lady.
Yurand wrinkled his forehead like a man who is collecting his thoughts with difficulty, and answered,—
"In Tsehanov? My child is waiting for me—and the prince and princess—Danusia! Danusia!"
Then closing his eyes, he dropped again to the pillow. Zbyshko and the princess were terrified lest he had died; but at that very instant his breast moved with deep breath, as in the case of a man seized by heavy sleep.
Father Vyshonek placed a finger on his own lips and made a sign not to rouse the man; then he whispered,—
"He may sleep all day in this manner."
