road little streams which flowed toward lower places with a gladsome murmur, and formed shallow pools in depressions. The whole region was irrigated, wet, but smiling in the clearness of morning. On such mornings delight seizes man's heart, so the drivers and attendants sang to themselves in low voices, wondering at the silence which reigned among those who were riding before them.
They were silent, for sorrow had settled down in Yagenka's soul. In her life something had come to an end, something was broken; and the girl, though not greatly used to meditation, and unable to explain to herself clearly what was happening in her mind and what appeared to her, still felt that everything by which she had lived up to that time had failed her, and gone for nothing; that every hope in her had been dissipated, as the morning mist is blown apart on the fields, that she must renounce everything, abandon everything, forget everything, and begin life anew. She thought too that though by the will of God the future would not be altogether bad, still it could not be other than sad, and in no case so good as that might have been which had just ended.
And her heart was pressed by immense sorrow for that past which was now closed forever, and the sorrow rose in a stream of tears to her eyes. But she would not let those tears come, for, in addition to the whole burden which weighed down her soul, she felt shame. She would have preferred never to have left Zgorzelitse rather than return as she was returning then from Spyhov. She had not gone there merely to deprive Stan and Vilk of a reason for attacking Zgorzelitse; this she could not hide from herself. No! This was known also to Matsko, who had not taken her for that reason either, and it would be known surely to Zbyshko. At the latter thought her cheeks burned, bitterness filled her heart. "I was not haughty enough for thee," said she in spirit, "and now I have received what I worked for." And to anxiety, uncertainty of the morrow, regretful sadness and undying sorrow for the past, was joined humiliation.
But the further course of her grievous thoughts was interrupted by some man hurrying to meet them. Hlava, who kept a watchful eye on everything, spurred his horse toward the man, and from the crossbow on his shoulder, his badgerskin bag, and the feathers on his cap, recognized a forester.
"Hei, but who art thou? Halt!" cried he, to make sure.
The man approached quickly, his face full of emotion, as
