"Let them! It might be worse if they came after us."
"Well! Fear not. I am an old man, but let them beware of my fist. All the
Gradys are of the same mettle!… However, they have already tested
Zbyszko…."
Meanwhile they arrived at Krzesnia. Old Wilk of Brzozowa, who also happened to be at church, from time to time cast gloomy glances at Macko, but he did not mind it, and with a light heart he returned with Jagienka immediately after mass…. Then they took leave of each other and parted. When Macko was by himself at Bogdaniec, less happy thoughts passed through his mind. He understood that neither the people at Zgorzelice nor the relatives of Jagienka would really object to her departure. "But as to the girl's admirers," he said to himself, "that is quite another affair, but against the orphans and their property they would not dare to lift up their hand, because they would cover themselves with excessive infamy. Everybody would be against them as one is against a wolf. But Bogdaniec is left to God's favor!… The quarries will be filled up, the flocks will be seized, the peasants will be enticed away!… If God permit me to return, then I will fight them. I shall send out bans, and fight them not with the fist but with the law!… Only let me return, and if I do?… They will combine against me, because I have spoiled their love affair, and if she goes with me they will yet be more rancorous."
He was much grieved about his estate at Bogdaniec which he had improved. Now he felt sure that on his return he would find it desolate and in ruins.
"Now then, it is necessary to take counsel," he thought.
Accordingly, after dinner, he ordered his horse to be saddled and left directly for Brzozowa.
It was already dark when he arrived. Old Wilk was sitting in the front room drinking mead from a pitcher. Young Wilk, who was wounded by Cztan, was lying on a skin-covered bench, and was also drinking mead. Macko entered unexpectedly and remained standing upon the threshold with a stern look on his face; tall, bony, armed only with a big sabre at his side. They recognized him at once, because his face was lit up by the bright flame of the fireplace, and at the first moment, both the father and son jumped up, lightning-like, and running toward the wall seized the first arms that were at hand.
But the old experienced Macko, well knowing the people and their customs, did not interfere in the least, he did not even reach his hand to his sword. He only put his hands on his hips, and said quietly in a somewhat sarcastic voice:
"How is it? Is this the kind of hospitality which the nobles in Brzozowa practice?"
These words had the desired effect; their hands fell, and in a moment the old man let fall the sword with a clash, the young man dropped his pike, and they stood with their necks craned toward Macko, their faces still expressing hatred, but already amazed and ashamed of themselves.