The pope could but shake his head mournfully, and went his way. Taras and his men remaining yet a while in the cemetery to say their prayers by the newly-made grave. Nashko only stood aside, gazing at them fixedly, and his eyes glowed with a terrible fire.
But a pitiful scene awaited these men on leaving the graveyard--the old innkeeper and his wife standing without, weeping and sobbing; forbidden by the strictness of their faith to pass within an enclosure at the entrance of which there was a crucifix, they had abstained from coming nearer, but from a distance had endeavoured to do honour to the dead after their own fashion.
Taras went up to the old Jew. "You have done what you could," he said, "and we thank you."
"What is the use of making words," cried Froïm, passionately. "I know I have done what I could, but I could not save her! I'm a poor old Jew, but you are a strong, hale Christian, and if I were you I'd make the rascal rue it dearly."
"This is the very thing I am going to do," returned Taras, quietly. "I shall go straight to the Black Water to accuse him to his father. And if Hilarion will not bring him to due punishment, I shall do so."
And the band mounted, turning their horses' heads westwards, towards the towering peaks of the Czernahora. They stopped for the night at the hamlet of Magura, reaching the settlement early the following day.
The patriarch appeared to have expected them, for his eldest son made haste to invite Taras into his sire's presence, Hilarion receiving him with the same dignified complacency with which he had parted from him the week before. "You have come to call for justice against that young son of mine; but I have anticipated it, and punished him as he deserves."
"And what is his punishment?" inquired Taras.
"I have sent him to a distant pasture, where he will have to stay till I give him leave to return, and I shall take good care not to do so before the spring. This will furnish him with leisure to consider his folly."
"Folly!" exclaimed Taras, bitterly.