They were fearful days that followed. A burning fever ran its course in the girl's body, but the sickness of her soul seemed more devouring still. "I am dying--dying for shame!" she kept crying. "I love him--I hate him!" But as the fever spent itself, the struggle of her heart grew weaker. And at last she lay still, weary unto death, but saved, and her mind was clear. She wept blessed tears, and suffered him to touch her.
She suffered it, but did not return his caresses. "Taras!" she sobbed, "do you despise me?"
"Despise you? Good God!" he cried, covering her hand with kisses.
"Ah, yes--but you might--you ought!" she wept. "No only, because----," a burning blush overspread her pallor. "But do you know why I struggled so desperately when your hand was upon me in the river? I knew you would hold fast, and I wanted to drag you down with me in death. Can you forgive it?"
"Yes!" he cried, and his face shone.
"As sure as you wish your mother to be at peace in her grave?"
"Yes, Anusia!" he cried again.
"Then I may kiss you," she said, twining her arms about him.
That was their troth plight; and soon after they were married.
Thus the stranger had become the owner of the largest farm but one in the village. Yet no one grudged him his good fortune; even Harasim appeared to have submitted to his fate. And but rarely was there an attempt at making fun of his garb; he had acquired their mode of address, saying "thou" to young and old, but he could not be prevailed upon to adopt the Huzul's dress. But no one disliked him for it, the people had ample proof apart from this how faithfully he had adopted the interests of his new home, and even if they did not openly confess as much to themselves it was very evident he was benefiting them largely. Without in the least thrusting himself upon them, or pushing his views, this blue-eyed, quiet stranger in the course of a few years had become the most influential man, even a reformer of the parish; in the first place because of his ever helpful goodness, in the second place because of the rare wisdom governing his every act.