And they embraced a second time, after which the young man began to inquire hurriedly for his sister.
“I gave command to keep her aside till I called her,” said the father; “the girl will jump almost out of her skin.”
“For God’s sake, where is she?” cried the son, and opening the door he began to call so loudly that an echo answered, “Eva! Eva!” from the walls.
Eva, who was waiting in the next chamber, rushed in at once; but she was barely able to cry “Adam!” when strong arms seized her and raised her from the floor. The brother had loved her greatly always; in old times, while protecting her from the tyranny of their father, he took her faults on himself frequently, and received the floggings due her. In general the father was a despot at home, really cruel; therefore the maiden greeted now in that strong brother, not a brother merely, but her future refuge and protection. He kissed her on the head, on the eyes and hands; at times he held her at arms’ length, looked into her face, and cried out with delight,—
“A splendid girl, as God is dear to me!” Then again, “See how she has grown! A stove,[24] not a maiden!”
Her eyes were laughing at him. They began to talk then very rapidly, of their long separation, of home and the wars. Old Pan Novoveski walked around them and muttered. The son made a great impression on him; but at times disquiet touching his own future authority seemed to seize him. Those were the days of great parental power, which grew to boundless preponderance afterward; but this son was that partisan, that soldier from the wild stanitsas, who, as Pan Novoveski understood at once, was riding on his own special horse. Pan Novoveski guarded his parental authority jealously. He was certain, however, that his son would always respect him, would give him his due; but would he yield always like wax, would he endure everything as he had endured when a stripling? “Bah!” thought the old man, “if I make up my mind to it, I’ll treat him like a stripling. He is daring, a lieutenant; he imposes on me, as I love God.” To finish all, Pan Novoveski felt that his fatherly affection was growing each minute, and that he would have a weakness for that giant of a son.
Meanwhile Eva was twittering like a bird, overwhelming her brother with questions. “When would he come home; and wouldn’t he settle down, wouldn’t he marry?” She in truth does not know clearly, and is not certain; but as she loves her father, she has heard that soldiers are given to falling in love. But now she remembers that it was Paul Volodyovski who said so. How beautiful and kind she is, that Pani Volodyovski! A more beautiful and better is not to be found in all Poland with a candle. Zosia Boski alone might, perhaps, be compared with her.
“Who is Zosia Boski?” asked Pan Adam.
“She who with her mother is stopping here, whose father was carried off by the Tartars. If you see her yourself you will fall in love with her.”
“Give us Zosia Boski!” cried the young officer.