XII.
The next day, the moment of Zbyszko’s departure arrived. He sat high on a tall warhorse, his own people gathered around him. Jagienka, standing by the stirrup, raised her sad blue eyes toward the young man in silence, as if trying to gaze her fill at him before the parting. Macko, along with Father Kaleb, stood at the other stirrup, and close by, the squire with Sieciechówna. He turned his head from side to side, exchanging with them the short words usually spoken before a journey: “Stay well!” — “May God lead you!” — “It’s time!” — “Hey, time! time!”
Earlier he had already said goodbye to everyone, and to Jagienka, whom he had bowed to at the feet, thanking her for her kindness. And now, as he looked down at her from the high knight’s saddle, he wanted to say another kind word to her, for her uplifted eyes and face said so clearly: “Come back!” — that his heart swelled with genuine gratitude.
And as if answering her mute eloquence, he said:
“Jagusia, to you, as to a sister… You know!… I’ll say no more!”
“I know. God reward you!”
“And remember about Uncle.”
“And you remember!”
“I’ll return, if I don’t perish.”
“Don’t perish!”
Once before, in Plock, when he mentioned the expedition, she had said the same: “Don’t perish!” — but now the words came from an even deeper place in her soul, and perhaps to hide her tears she bent forward so that her forehead touched Zbyszko’s knee for a moment.
Meanwhile, the mounted servants holding the packhorses at the gate, ready for the road, began to sing:
“The ring will not perish, the golden ring
Will not perish.
The raven will bring it back, from the field bring it back
To the maiden…”
“Let’s go!” — called Zbyszko.
“Let’s go!”
“May God lead you! Holy Mother!”
Hooves thundered on the wooden drawbridge, one horse neighed long, others began to snort loudly, and the retinue moved off.
But Jagienka, Macko, the priest, Tolima, and also Czech Hlawa with his woman, and those servants who were staying in Spychów, came out onto the bridge and watched the departing party. Father Kaleb made the sign of the cross over them for a long time, until finally, when they disappeared behind the tall alder bushes, he said:
“Under this sign, no evil adventure will reach them.”
And Macko added:
“Surely, but it’s also good that the horses snorted loudly.”
But they too did not stay long in Spychów. After two weeks, the old knight settled matters with Czech Hlawa, who took the estate on lease, while he himself, at the head of a long line of wagons surrounded by armed retainers, set out with Jagienka toward Bogdaniec. Father Kaleb and old Tolima looked upon those wagons not entirely happily, for to tell the truth, Macko had plundered Spychów a bit — but since Zbyszko had completely left the governance to him, no one dared oppose him. Moreover, he would have taken even more if Jagienka had not restrained him, with whom he indeed argued, scoffing at “woman’s wisdom” — but whom he nevertheless obeyed in almost everything.
They did not take Danusia’s coffin, however, since Spychów had not been sold, Zbyszko preferred that it remain with her fathers. Instead, they carried a great amount of money and various riches, for the most part plundered in times past from the Germans in the numerous battles that Jurand had fought with them. So Macko, now looking at the loaded wagons covered with reed mats, rejoiced in his soul at the thought of how he would help and set Bogdaniec in order.
However, the fear that Zbyszko might perish poisoned that joy, but knowing the young man’s knightly prowess, he did not lose hope that he would return safely, and he delighted in thinking of that moment.
“Perhaps this is what God wanted,” he said to himself, “that Zbyszko should first get Spychów, and then Moczydoly and everything that the Abbot left behind? Let him only return safely, then I’ll build him a proper castle in Bogdaniec; and then we’ll see!”
Here he remembered that Cztan of Rogów and Wilk of Brzozowa would probably not welcome him very pleasantly, and that he might have to fight with them, but he did not care about that, just as an old warhorse does not care when it must go into battle. His health had returned, he felt it in his bones, and he knew that he could easily handle those brawlers, dangerous though they were, but having no knightly training. True, he had said something different to Zbyszko not long ago — but he had said that only to persuade him to return.
“Hey! I’m a pike, and they’re gudgeons — he thought — better they don’t come near my head!”
But something else worried him: Zbyszko would return God knows when, and besides, he considered Jagienka completely a sister. What if the girl also looked at him as a brother, and what if she did not want to wait for his uncertain return?
So he turned to her and said:
“Listen, Jagna: I’m not talking about Cztan of Rogów and Wilk of Brzozowa, because they’re coarse fellows and not for you. You’re a lady now!… But considering that you are of age!… The late Zych already said that you feel God’s will, and that was several years ago… For all I know! They say that when a girl’s wreath is too tight, she is ready to look for someone to take it off her head… Meaning, of course, neither Cztan nor Wilk… But what do you think?”
“What are you asking about?”
“Will you not marry someone?”
“I?… I will become a nun.”
“Don’t say just anything! And if Zbyszko returns?”
But she shook her head:
“I will become a nun.”
“Well, and if he loved you? If he begged you terribly?”
At that, the girl turned her flushed face toward the field, but the wind, which was blowing just then from the field, brought Macko a quiet answer:
“Then I won’t.”
END OF PART NINE.