men for one moment. Toward morning they could hardly recognize each other, so much had their faces changed in that single night. At last Zbyshko's suffering and resolve astonished Yurand; so he said,—
"She covered thee with a veil and wrested thee from death—I know that. But dost thou love her besides?"
Zbyshko looked him straight in the eyes with a face almost insolent, and answered,—
"She is my wife."
At this Yurand stopped his horse, and gazed at Zbyshko, blinking from amazement.
"What hast thou said? " inquired he.
"I say that she is my wife, and that I am her husband."
The Knight of Spyhov covered his eyes with his glove, as if his sight had been dazzled by a lightning flash, but he said nothing. After a while he rode on, and pushing to the head of the escort advanced in silence.
