That was Nashko. Taras went up to him gently and led him out into the night, making him sit down on the steps of the chapel. And bending over him, he passed his hand tenderly over his face.
"I know ..." he murmured, "I have seen it for some time ... and if I cannot avenge her, you will do it!..."
CHAPTER XXI.
["VENGEANCE IS MINE."]
It was a sad, humble funeral. The blasts of October moaned in the valley, and the rain hissed and wept. For which reason the villagers preferred to remain indoors when the little bell called them early in the morning to attend the body to its resting-place, the charitable among them murmuring a prayer for the dead. "She needs it," they said, "having laid hands on herself!" For which reason, also, the judge and the elders had insisted that she must be buried by the outer wall of the cemetery, although the honest pope had tried his utmost to show them that the girl deserved their pity, even their admiration, rather than their contempt. But the villagers clung to their opinion, and all the priest could do was to take care that she should be buried with full church honours. If no one else were willing he, at least, would consign her to her grave reverently. He appeared at the mortuary chapel soon after eight o'clock, followed by some half-dozen mourners, and started back dismayed on beholding a band of armed and wild-looking men, evidently waiting for the funeral. But he proceeded with his sacred duly bravely, and felt touched not a little on perceiving how fervently these ill-famed outlaws joined in the prayer he offered up by the grave.
Having ended, Taras came forward, begging him to read three masses for the maiden they had buried. He promised, but refused the money the captain was offering him.
"You may take it without fear," said Taras, smiling sadly, "it is honestly acquired--we rob no man."
The priest gave a searching glance in the face before him, which looked old and anguished with the burden of sorrow this man had borne. "I believe you," he said, "but permit me to do a good work for this poor girl without taking reward."
Taras made no answer, but bowing low, he kissed the priest's hand reverently. The good man, seeing him so deeply moved, took courage to whisper a word urged by his deepest heart. "You poor, misguided man," he said, gently, "how long will you go on like this?"
"As long as there is need for it," said Taras, in a tone equally low, but none the less firm and decided. "I have been kept from wrong so far, but I see much of it about me."