"If he is commanded to Cracow, he must march near us, surely. That, however, depends upon where he was earlier and whence he is starting at present. We may get news at Radom. Is not our first night halt at Radom?"
"It is. I should wish too that the prelate Tvorkovski saw Panna Anulka and gave her final counsels. He will furnish us letters to help her in Cracow."
The conversation stopped for a time; then Pan Serafin raised his eyes again to Father Voynovski.
"But," asked he, "what will happen, think you, should she meet Yatsek in Cracow?"
"I know not. In every case that will take place which God wishes. Yatsek might win a fortune by marriage, while she is as poor as a Turkish saint--but wealth alone is mere nonsense, the splendor of a family is the great point in this case."
"Panna Anulka is of high lineage, and she is like gold--besides we know well that they are love-stricken, mortally."
The priest did not speak very willingly on this point, that was clear, for he turned the conversation to other subjects.
"Well," said he, "but let us think of this, that a robber is watching for that golden maiden. Do you remember Vilchopolski's words?"
Pan Serafin looked at the depth of the forest on all sides.
"Yes. But the Krepetskis will not dare," said he. "They will not dare! Our party is fairly large, and your grace sees the calmness of everything around us. I wish the girl to be in that carriage for safety, but she begged to be on horseback--she has no fear of anything."
"Well, she has good blood. But I note that she masters you thoroughly."
"And you, too, somewhat," answered Pan Serafin. "But as to me I confess right away; when she begs for a thing she knows how to move her eyes in such fashion that you must yield where you stand. Women have various methods, but have you noticed that she has that sort of blinking before which a man drops his arms. Near Belchantska I will tell her to enter the carriage, but so far she wishes absolutely to be on horseback, because, as she says, it is healthier."
"In such weather it is surely healthier."
"Look how rosy the girl is, just like a euphorbia laurel."
"What is her rosiness to me?" replied Father Voynovski. "But in truth the dear day is lovely."