pain and sorrow—and then thou wilt go whithersoever thou wishest."
"I will tell you as truly as at confession," answered Zbyshko: "I am going, you see, whither I must go; I talk with you, I eat and drink, like every man, but I say truly that within me and within my soul I cannot help myself in any way. There is nothing in me but sadness, nothing but pain, nothing but those bitter tears which flow from my eyes whether I will or not."
"Among strangers it will be still worse."
"No; God sees that I should die in Bogdanets. When I tell you that I cannot, it means that I cannot! I need war, for in the field one forgets more easily. I feel that when I accomplish my vow, when I am able to say to that saved soul, 'I have fulfilled everything that I promised,' only then will she release me. Earlier she will not. You could not hold me with a rope in Bogdanets."
After these words there was such silence in that chamber that flies were heard as they passed beneath the ceiling.
"If it would kill him to be in Bogdanets, better let him go," said Yagenka, finally.
Matsko put his two palms on his neck, as was his custom at moments of perplexity, sighed then deeply, and said,—
"Ei, mighty God!"
But Yagenka continued,—
"Zbyshko, but thou wilt swear, that if God preserves thee, thou wilt not remain off there, but return to us?"
"Why should I not return? I shall not avoid Spyhov, but I will not remain here."
"For," continued the girl, in a voice somewhat lower, "if thou art concerned for the coffin we will take it to Kresnia. "
"Yagus!"[1] cried Zbyshko, with an outburst.
And he fell at her feet in the first moment of transport and gratitude.
- ↑ One of the many variants of Yagenka.
