On the Field of Glory

"In season," repeated Panna Anulka, with emphasis, pouting a little, and looking at Pan Stanislav bewitchingly.

Tachevski's cheeks flushed, but on his face there appeared as it were humiliation, his eyes became mist-covered, and, with immense sadness in his accents, he said, -

"In season, for they were in company, and happy because on good horses, but wolf teeth at that time were cutting old Voloshyn, and my last friend had vanished. But-" even here he looked with greater good-will at the Bukoyemskis-"may your hands be sacred, for ye have done that which with my whole soul I wished to do, but God did not let me."

Panna Anulka seemed changeable, like all women, perhaps too she was sorry for Tachevski, since her eyes became pleasant and twinkling, her lids opened and closed very quickly, and she asked with a different voice altogether, -

"Old Voloshyn? My God, I loved him so much and he knew me. My God!"

Tachevski looked at her straightway with thankfulness.

"He knew you, gracious lady, he knew you."

"Grieve not, Pan Yatsek, grieve not so cruelly."

"I grieved before this, but on horseback. I shall grieve now on foot. God reward you, however, for the kind words."

"But mount now the mouse-colored horse," said Pan Gideon. "The page will ride the off leader, or sit behind the carriage. There is an extra burka at the saddle, put it on, for thou hast been freezing all night, and the cold is increasing."

"No," said Tachevski, "I am warm. I left my shuba behind, since I felt no need of it."

"Well, for the road!"

They started. Yatsek Tachevski taking his place near the left carriage window, Stanislav Tsyprianovitch at the right, so the young lady sitting in front might without turning her head look freely at the one and the other.

But the Bukoyemskis were not glad to see Yatsek. They were angry that he had taken a place at the side of the carriage, so, bringing their horses together till their heads almost touched, they talked with one another and counselled, -

"He looked at us insolently," said Mateush. "As God is in heaven he wants to insult us."

"Just now he turned his horse's tail to us. What do ye say to that?"

"Well, he could not turn the horse's head, for horses do not travel tail forward like crawfish. But that he is making up to that young lady is certain," put in Marek.

"Thou hast taken in the situation correctly. See how he bends and leans forward. If his stirrup strap breaks he will fall."

"He will not fall, the son of a such a one, for the saddle straps are strong, and he is a firm rider."

"Bend thyself, bend till we break thee!"

"Just look how he smiles at her!"

"Well, brothers, are we to permit this? Never, as God lives! The girl is not for us, that may be, but does he remember what we did yesterday?"

"Of course! He must divine that, for he is cunning, and now he is making up to her to spite us."

"And in contempt for our poverty and orphanhood."

"Oh! upon my word a great magnate-on another man's horse."

"Well, for that matter we are not riding our own beasts."

"One horse remains to us anyhow, so if three sit at home the fourth man may ride to the war if he wishes; but that fellow has not even a saddle, for the wolves have made bits of it."

"Besides, he sticks his nose up. What has he against us? Just tell me."

"Well, ask him."

"Shall I do it right away?"

"Eight away, but politely, so as not to offend old Pan Gideon. Only after he has answered can we challenge."

"And then we shall have him!"

"Which of us is to do this?"

"I, of course, for I am the eldest," said Mateush. "I will rub the icicle from my mustache, and then at him!"

"But remember well what he says to thee."

"I will repeat every word, like the Lord's prayer."

Thereupon the eldest Bukoyemski set to rubbing off with his glove the ice from his mustache, and then urging his horse to the horse of Pan Yatsek he called, -

"My dear Sir?"

"What?" inquired Yatsek, turning his head from the carriage unwillingly.

"What have you against us?"

Yatsek looked at him with astonishment, and answered, -

"Nothing!" then, shrugging his shoulders, he turned again to the carriage.

Mateush rode on some time in silence considering whether to return and report to his brothers or speak further. The second course seemed to him better, so he continued, -

"If thou think to do anything, I say that thou wilt do what thou hast said to me. Nothing!"

On Yatsek's face was an expression of constraint and annoyance. He understood that they were seeking a quarrel, for which at that moment he had not the least wish whatever. But he found need of some answer, and that of such kind as to end the conversation, so he asked, -

"Well, thy brothers over there, are they also-"

"Of course! but what is 'also'?"

"Think it out thyself and do not interrupt now my more agreeable occupation."

Mateush rode along the side of the carriage ten or fifteen steps farther. At last he turned his horse.

"What did he tell thee? Speak out!" said the brothers.