Thus conversing, they entered a place covered here and there with thicket. The hour was not far from daybreak, but it had become darker, for the moon had gone down. A light fog had begun to rise from the ground and conceal distant objects. In that light fog and gloom, the indistinct thickets at a distance took the forms of living creatures in the excited imagination of Basia. More than once it seemed to her that she saw men and horses clearly.
“Michael, what is that?” asked she, whispering, and pointing with her finger.
“Nothing; bushes.”
“I thought it was horsemen. Shall we be there soon?”
“The affair will begin in something like an hour and a half.”
“Ha!”
“Are you afraid?”
“No; but my heart beats with great desire. I, fear! Nothing and nothing! See, what hoar-frost lies there! It is visible in the dark.”
In fact, they were riding along a strip of country on which the long dry stems of steppe-grass were covered with hoar-frost. Pan Michael looked and said,—
“Motovidlo has passed this way. He must be hidden not more than a couple of miles distant. It is dawning already!”