"Well, and what do the blessed do in heaven."
"They sing."
"Well, then! And the damned cry. I prefer to go to those who sing rather than to those who cry; and St. Peter will say thus: 'We must let him into paradise; otherwise he will sing in hell, and that will not be right.' Look, the day breaks!"
In fact, daylight was coming. After awhile they arrived at a large glade. By the lake covering the greater part of the glade, some people were fishing; but seeing the armed men, they left their nets and immediately seized their picks and staffs and stood ready for battle.
"They thought we were robbers," said Zych, laughing. "Hej, fishermen! To whom do you belong?"
They stood for a while silently, looking distrustfully; but finally one of them having recognized that they were knights, answered:
"To the ksiondz, the abbot of Tulcza."
"Our relative," said Macko, "the same who holds Bogdaniec in pledge. These must be his forests; but he must have purchased them a short time ago."
"He did not buy them," answered Zych. "He was fighting about them with Wilk of Brzozowa and it seems that the abbot defeated Wilk. A year ago they were going to fight on horseback with spears and long swords for this part of the forest; but I do not know how it ended because I went away."
"Well, we are relatives," said Macko, "he will not quarrel with us."