“Auntie!” said Krysia, suddenly.
Further conversation was interrupted by the servant, who announced that supper was on the table. All went then to the dining-room; but Basia was not there.
“Where is the young lady?” asked Pani Makovetski of the servant.
“The young lady is in the stable. I told the young lady that supper was ready; the young lady said, ‘Well,’ and went to the stable.”
“Has something unpleasant happened to her? She was so gay,” said Pani Makovetski, turning to Zagloba.
Then the little knight, who had an unquiet conscience, said, “I will go and bring her.” And he hurried out. He found her just inside the stable-door, sitting on a bundle of hay. She was so sunk in thought that she did not see him as he entered.
“Panna Basia,” said the little knight, bending over her.
Basia trembled as if roused from sleep, and raised her eyes, in which Pan Michael saw, to his utter astonishment, two tears as large as pearls. “For God’s sake! What is the matter? You are weeping.”
“I do not dream of it,” cried Basia, springing up; “I do not dream of it! That is from frost.” She laughed joyously, but the laughter was rather forced. Then, wishing to turn attention from herself, she pointed to the stall in which was the steed given Pan Michael by the hetman, and said with animation, “You say it is impossible to go to that horse? Now let us see!”
And before Pan Michael could restrain her, she had sprung into the stall. The fierce beast began to rear, to paw, and to put back his ears.