They urged their horses forward, and in a little while they halted in front of the beggar who was slowly coming down the hill and feeling his way with his staff. He was indeed an immense old man, and appeared to them, even when they were near him, a giant. They were convinced that he was stone blind. Instead of eyes he had two red hollows. His right hand was wanting; instead of it he carried a bandage of dirty rags. His hair was white and falling down upon his shoulders, and his beard reached his belt.
"He has neither food, nor companion, not even a dog, but is feeling the way by himself," exclaimed Jagienka. "For God's sake, we cannot leave him here without assistance. I do not know whether he will understand me, but I shall try to talk to him in Polish."
Then she jumped from her horse and approached the beggar, and began to look for some money in her leather pouch which was suspended from her belt.
The beggar, when he heard the noise and tramping of the horses, stretched his staff in front of him and lifted up his head as blind men do.
"Praised be Jesus Christ," said the girl. "Do you understand, little grandfather, in the Christian fashion?"
But on hearing her sweet, young voice, he trembled; a strange flush appeared on his face as though from tender emotion; he covered his hollow orbits with his eyebrows, and suddenly threw down his staff and fell on his knees, with outstretched arms, in front of her.
"Get up! I will assist you. What ails you?" asked Jagienka in astonishment.
But he did not reply, but tears rolled down his cheeks, and he groaned:
"A!—a!—a!…"
"For the love of God—Can you not say something?"