“Not before the Billeviches,” answered he, frowning; “not from fear; but I go there from prudence, so as to act against those robbers with fresh forces.”
“Then a pleasant journey to you.”
“How is that? Do you think that I will go without you, my dearest hope?”
“Whoso is a coward may find hope in flight, not in me.”
Sakovich was pale from anger. He would have punished her; but seeing before whom he was standing, he restrained himself, softened his fierce face with a smile, and said, as if jesting,—
“Oh, I shall not ask. I will seat you in a carriage and take you along.”
“Will you?” asked she. “Then I see that I am held here in captivity against the will of the prince. Know then, sir, that if you do that, I shall not speak another word to you all my life, so help me the Lord God! for I was reared in Lubni, and I have the greatest contempt for cowards. Would that I had not fallen into such hands! Would that Pan Babinich had carried me off for good into Lithuania, for he was not afraid of any man!”
“For God’s sake!” cried Sakovich. “Tell me at least why you are unwilling to go to Prussia.”
But Anusia feigned weeping and despair.
“Tartars as it were have taken me into captivity, though I was reared by Princess Griselda, and no one had a right to me. They seize me, imprison me, take me beyond the sea by force, will condemn me to exile. It is soon to be seen how they will tear me with pincers! O my God! my God!”