“Well, and what?”
“But may the bullets strike that Ketling woman! For God’s sake, how is this Commonwealth not to perish when women are managing it?”
“Cannot you think out something?”
“Since you fear your wife, what can I think out for you? Get the blacksmith to shoe you,—that’s what!”
CHAPTER XLV.
The Ketlings stayed about three weeks. At the expiration of that time Basia tried to leave her bed; but it appeared that she could not stand on her feet yet. Health had returned to her sooner than strength; and the doctor commanded her to lie till all her vigor came back to her. Meanwhile spring came. First a strong and warm wind, rising from the side of the Wilderness and the Black Sea, rent and swept away that veil of clouds as if it were a robe which had rotted from age, and then began to gather and scatter those clouds through the sky, as a shepherd dog gathers and scatters flocks of sheep. The clouds, fleeing before it, covered the earth frequently with abundant rain, which fell in drops as large as berries. The melting remnant of snow and ice formed lakes on the flat steppe; from the cliffs ribbons of water were falling; along the beds of ravines streams rose,—and all those waters were flying with a noise and an outbreak and uproar to the Dniester, just as children fly with delight to their mother.
Through the rifts between the clouds the sun shone every few moments,—bright, refreshed, and as it were wet from bathing in that endless abyss.
Then bright-green blades of grass began to rise through the softened ground; the slender twigs of trees put forth buds abundantly, and the sun gave heat with growing power. In the sky flocks of birds appeared, hence rows of cranes, wild geese, and storks; then the wind began to bring crowds of swallows; the frogs croaked in a great chorus in the warmed water; the small birds were singing madly; and through pine woods and forests and steppes and ravines went one great outcry, as if all Nature were shouting with delight and enthusiasm,—
“Spring! U-há! Spring!”
But for those hapless regions spring brought mourning, not rejoicing; death, not life. In a few days after the departure of the Ketlings the little knight received the following intelligence from Pan Myslishevski,—