canst not drive a nail without a hammer, so thou canst and force human will unless God's will be with thee."
"What do you mean?" inquired Yagenka.
Matsko answered her question with the question,—
"Has Zbyshko spoken to thee of Yurand's daughter?—for I have heard that he did speak."
Yagenka did not answer immediately; only after a time did she say, suppressing a sigh,—
"Oh, he did. And why should he not speak?"
"That is well, for since he spoke it is easier for me to talk," said the old man.
And he told her what he had heard from Hlava, wondering himself that at times the narrative came to him in disorder and with difficulty. But as he was really crafty, and the question with him was in every case not to mislead Yagenka, he insisted greatly on this, and moreover he believed it, that Zbyshko might never be the husband of Danusia, for Danusia was lost forever. From time to time Hlava supported him, repeating at one moment "As God lives," at another, "That is as true as life!" or, "It is thus, not otherwise."
The girl listened with eyelashes drooping toward her cheeks, making no inquiry, and so silent that the silence troubled Matsko.
"Well, and what dost thou say?" asked he, finishing the narrative.
She made no answer, but two tears glistened under her drooping lashes and rolled down her cheeks. After a while she approached Matsko, and kissing his hand said,—
"May He be praised!"
"For the ages of ages," answered the old man. "Then art thou hastening home? Stay with us."
But she would not stay, explaining that at home she had not given out supper. Matsko, though he knew that the noble woman Setsehova, who was at Zgorzelitse, might take her place, did not urge her overmuch to stay, understanding that sorrow is unwilling to show its tears, and that a man or woman is like a fish, which when it feels the hook within its body hides as deeply as possible under water. So he only stroked the girl's head, and conducted her in company with Hlava to the courtyard. But Hlava led forth his horse from the stable, mounted, and rode away after the lady.
Matsko, when he returned to the house, sighed, shook his head, and muttered,—
