sprang on without putting his foot in the stirrup, and went at a gallop from the place, and with his great sleeves blown apart by the wind he looked like a red giant bird. The clerics flew after him in fear, like a herd hastening after its leader.
Matsko looked at the party till it vanished in the pine wood; then he turned slowly to the house, and, nodding his head gloomily, said to Zbyshko,—
"Thou hast done a fine thing!"
"This would not have happened had I gone away earlier; I did not go because of you."
"How, because of me?"
"Yes; for I would not go leaving you in sickness."
"But now how will it be?"
"Now I will go."
"Whither?"
"To Mazovia, to Danusia, and to seek peacock-plumes among the Germans."
Matsko was silent a while, then he said,—
"He has given back the 'paper,' but the pledge is recorded in the court book. The abbot will not forgive us a grosh now."
"Let him not forgive. You have money, and I need none for the road. People will receive me everywhere, and give food to my horses; while I have armor on my back, and a sword in my grasp, I have no care for anything."
Matsko fell to thinking, and began to weigh everything that had happened. Nothing had gone according to his wish, or his heart. He had desired Yagenka for Zbyshko with all his soul; but he understood that there could be no bread from that flour, and that, considering the abbot's anger, considering Zyh and Yagenka, considering finally the battle with Vilk and Stan, it was better that Zbyshko should go than be the cause of more disputes and quarrels.
"Ah!" said he, at last, "thou must seek heads of the Knights of the Cross anyhow; so go, since there is no other way out. Let it happen according to the will of the Lord Jesus; but I must go to Zgorzelitse at once, mayhap I can talk over Zyh and the abbot—I am sorry, especially for Zyh."
Here he looked into Zbyshko's eyes, and asked quickly:
"But art thou not sorry for Yagenka?"
"May God give her health, and all that is best!" replied Zbyshko.
