For the Right

by Karl Emil Franzos

"It is all as God may will," returned he solemnly; adding, "Do it to please me."

"Well, if it tends to your happiness, certainly," she said, good-naturedly, and did her best to understand what he explained to her concerning the taxes and imposts.

In the presence of his friend, the village priest, Taras never let fall such hints, meeting the good pope, on the contrary, with great reserve. But Father Leo took no umbrage, redoubling his affection for the saddened man, and doing all in his power to counteract the low spirits to which evidently he was a prey. He even proposed to teach him reading and writing. "It is useful anyhow," he said, "and you could amuse yourself with entertaining books."

But Taras declined. "It is no use to me now," he said, "and will be still less presently. Besides, that which would rejoice my heart is not written in your books. Nor have I the needful leisure; these are busy days on the farm, and after Epiphany I mean to go hunting. I shall be gone a good while I think."

"Do, by all means," said good Father Leo approvingly, "it will cheer you. And there is the general hunt before Christmas. You will not miss that."

"I shall not take part," replied Taras, quietly, "even if they ask me, which I do not expect."

"Not ask you!" said Father Leo. "You the best bear-hunter born!"

But events proved that Taras had judged right. Constantine objected to his presence, so the people did without him. That warrior had contracted a real hatred of Taras for various reasons, mostly foolish, but in part spiteful. To begin with, the dethroned judge was the natural leader of the more wealthy of the community, which was bad; he was an "enemy of the Emperor," and that was worse; worse still, the community had suffered loss "through him, and him alone;" the worst of all being that Constantine still owed a certain florin to "this bastard who had sneaked his way into the affections of an heiress."

Anusia felt it a personal insult, shedding passionate tears when the hunting party passed the farm; but Taras did not move a feature, continuing quietly to fill the sacks of corn that were to be sold. One thing, however, he did when the last sound of the noisy party had died away. He entered the common sitting-room, calling upon his eldest boy Wassilj. "My child," he said, "you are eight years old, and our little father Leo is instructing you well--do you know what an oath is?"

"Yes," said the little boy.