“But wait. When I heard that, I said: ‘But am I asking for money, or do I need it? I want your blessing, nothing more; for the property of Pagans that came to my sabre is enough to rent a good estate or purchase a village. What belongs to mother, let that be a dower for Eva; I will add one or two handfuls of turquoise and some silk and brocade, and if a bad year comes, I’ll help my father with ready money.’ My father became dreadfully curious then. ‘Have you such wealth?’ asked he. ‘In God’s name, where did you get it? Was it from plunder, for you went away as poor as a Turkish saint?’
“‘Fear God, father,’ answered I. ‘It is eleven years since I began to bring down this fist, and, as they say, it is not of the worst, and shouldn’t it collect something? I was at the storming of rebel towns in which ruffiandom and the Tartars had piled up the finest plunder; I fought against murzas and robber bands: booty came and came. I took only what was recognized as mine without injustice to any; but it increased, and if a man didn’t frolic, I should have had twice as much property as you got from your father.’”
“What did the old man say to that?” asked Zagloba, rejoicing.
“My father was amazed, for he had not expected this, and began straightway to complain of my wastefulness. ‘There would be,’ said he, ‘an increase, but that this scatterer, this haughty fellow who loves only to plume himself and puts on the magnate, squanders all, saves nothing.’ Then curiosity conquered him, and he began to ask particularly what I have; and seeing that I could travel quickly by smearing with that tar, I not only concealed nothing, but lied a little, though usually I will not over-color, for I think thus to myself: ‘Truth is oats, and lying chopped straw.’ My father bethought himself, and now for plans: ‘This or that [land] might have been bought,’ said he; ‘this or that lawsuit might have been kept up,’ said he; ‘we might have lived at each side of the same boundary, and when you were away I could have looked after everything.’ And my worthy father began to cry. ‘Adam,’ said he, ‘that girl has pleased me terribly; she is under the protection of the hetman,—there may be some profit out of that, too; but do you respect this my second daughter, and do not squander what she has, for I should not forgive you at my death-hour.’ And I, my gracious benefactor, just roared at the very suspicion of injustice to Zosia. My father and I fell into each other’s embraces, and wept till the first cockcrow, precisely.”
“The old rogue!” muttered Zagloba, then he added aloud: “Ah, there may be a wedding soon, and new amusements in Hreptyoff, especially since it is carnival time.”
“There would be one to-morrow if it depended on me,” cried Pan Adam, abruptly; “but this is what: My leave will end soon, and service is service, so I must return to Rashkoff. Well, Pan Rushchyts will give me another leave, I know. But I am not certain that there will not be delays on the part of the ladies. For when I push up to the old one, she says, ‘My husband is in captivity.’ When I speak to the daughter, she says, ‘Papa is in captivity.’ What of that? I do not keep that papa in bonds, do I? I’m terribly afraid of these obstacles; if it were not for that, I would take Father Kaminski by the soutane and wouldn’t let him go till he had tied Zosia and me. But when women get a thing into their heads you can’t draw it out with nippers. I’d give my last copper, I’d go in person for ‘papa,’ but I’ve no way of doing it. Besides, no one knows where he is; maybe he is dead, and there is the work for you! If they ask me to wait for him, I might have to wait till the Day of Judgment!”
“Pyotrovich, Naviragh, and the Anardrats will take the road to-morrow; there will be tidings soon.”
“Jesus save us! Am I to wait for tidings? There can be nothing before spring; meanwhile I shall wither away, as God is dear to me! My benefactor, all have faith in your wit and experience; knock this waiting out of the heads of these women. My benefactor, in the spring there will be war. God knows what will happen. Besides, I want to marry Zosia, not ‘papa;’ why must I sigh to him?”
“Persuade the women to go to Rashkoff and settle. There it will be easier to get tidings, and if Pyotrovich finds Boski, he will be near you. I will do what I can, I repeat; but do you ask Pani Basia to take your part.”
“I will not neglect that, I will not neglect, for devil—”