I sealed the letter and gave it to Pan Ustrytski. Then we went out; the brichkas had come already. Before sitting in mine, one terrifying thought came to my head.
"But," said I to Pan Ustrytski, "if Selim took Hania not to Horeli?"
"If not to Horeli, then he has gained time. It is night; there are fifty roads in every direction, and—look for a wind in the fields. But where could he have taken her?"
"To the town of N."
"Sixteen miles with the same horses. Then be at rest. A farce! isn't it? I will go to N. to-morrow, to-day even, but first to Horeli. I repeat to thee, be at rest."
An hour later I was at home. It was late at night, very late even, but lights were gleaming everywhere in the windows. Soon people were running with candles through various rooms. When my brichka stopped before the porch, the doors squeaked, and Father Ludvik came out with a lamp in his hand.
"Be quiet!" whispered he, putting his finger to his mouth.
"But Hania?" inquired I, feverishly.
"Hania is here already. The old Mirza brought her back. Come to my room. I will tell thee all."
I went to the priest's room.