I sprang to my feet.
"What has happened?" cried I. "Was I thrown? I fainted."
Near me were my father, the priest, Pani d'Yves, Selim, Kazio, and Hania white as linen, with tears in her eyes.
"What is the matter? What is the matter?" was the cry on all sides.
"Nothing at all. I was thrown, but that was not my fault. The girth was stretched."
In fact, after the momentary faint I felt perfectly well, only breath lacked me a little. My father fell to touching my hands, feet, shoulders.
"It does not hurt?" inquired he.
"No; I am perfectly well."
My breath too returned to me. But I was angry, for I thought that I seemed ridiculous, that I must seem ridiculous. In falling from the horse, I was thrown with violence across the whole width of the road, which passed near a grass-plot, and fell on the grass; because of this the elbows and knees of my clean clothing were stained green, my dress and hair disordered. But still the unfortunate outcome had rendered me a service. A moment before, Selim was the object of general attention in our circle, as a guest, and as a guest just arrived; now I had taken from him that palm of victory at the cost of my knees and elbows. Hania, thinking herself all the time, and justly, the cause of this hazardous trial which for me might have ended badly, tried to make up for her hastiness with kindness and sweetness. Under such influence I soon recovered my joyousness, which was communicated to all the society which a moment before had been terrified. We amused ourselves perfectly. Lunch was served, at which Hania was the mistress, and then we went to the garden. In the garden Selim became as full of pranks as a little boy; he laughed, frolicked, and Hania helped him with all her soul. Finally he said,
"Oh, how we shall amuse ourselves this time, all three of us!"
"I am curious to know," said Hania, "who is the most joyous!"
"Oh, surely I," answered Selim.
"But perhaps it is I. I am gladsome by nature."
"But the least gladsome is Henryk," added Selim. "He is naturally dignified, and a little sad. If he had lived in the Middle Ages, he would have been a knight-errant and a troubadour, only he cannot sing. But we," continued he, turning to Hania, "have looked for the poppy and found it."
"I cannot agree to that," answered I. "For any given disposition I prefer the opposite, since in this case one has the qualities which are lacking the other."
"Thanks," replied Selim; "I admit that thou art by nature fond of weeping, and Panna Hania of laughing. Well, let it be that: get married, you two "
"Selim!"
Selim looked at me and began to laugh.
"Well, young man? Ha! ha! Dost remember the oration of Cicero, 'commoveri videtur juvenis,' which in Polish means: the young man seems confused. But that signifies nothing, for without cause even thou canst blush gloriously: Panna Hania, he cooks crawfish 2 gloriously, and now he has blushed for himself and you."
"Selim!"
"Nothing, nothing! I return to my subject. Thou, sir, art a man of weeping, and thou, young lady, art a lady of laughing; get married. What will happen? He will begin to blubber, and you to laugh; you will never understand each other, never agree, different always; and what do I care for chosen natures? Oh, with me it would be different: we should simply laugh all our lives, and that would be the whole story."
"What are you saying?" answered Hania, and then both laughed heartily.
As to me, I had not the least desire to laugh. Selim did not know what injustice he did me in persuading Hania of the difference between her disposition and mine. I was angry in the highest degree, and answered Selim with sarcasm,
"Thou hast a strange view, and it astonishes me all the more, since I have noticed that thou hast a weakness for melancholy persons."
"I?" said he, with unfeigned astonishment.
"Yes. I will merely remind thee of a certain maiden, some fuchsias, and a little face between them. I give thee my word that I do not know such a melancholy face."
Hania clapped her hands.
"Oho! I am learning something new!" cried she, laughing. "Is she pretty, Pan Selim; is she pretty?"
I thought that Selim would grow confused and lose his boldness; but he merely said,
"Henryk?"
"What?"
"Dost thou know what I do with those whose tongues are too long?" And he laughed.
Hania insisted on his telling her even the name of this chosen one; without thinking long, he said,
"Yozia."
But if he had been what he pretended he would have paid dearly for his sincerity, for Hania gave him no peace from that hour till evening.
"Is she pretty?"
"Oh, so."
"What kind of hair has she, and eyes?"
"Nice ones, but not such as please me more than all others."
"And what kind please you?"
"Bright hair, and eyes, if they are kind, blue, like those into which I am looking at this moment."
"Oo, Pan Selim!"
And Hania frowned; but Selim, putting his palms together, made himself pleasant with that incomparable sweetness in his eyes, and began,
"Panna Hania, be not angry. What has the poor little Tartar done? Be not angry! Let the lady laugh."
Hania looked at him, and as she looked the cloud vanished from her forehead. He simply enchanted her. A smile wandered in the corners of her mouth; her eyes grew bright, her face radiant; and at last she answered in a soft, mild voice,
"Very well, I will not be angry; but I beg you to be nice."
"I will, as I love Mohammed, I will."
"And do you love your Mohammed much?"
"As dogs a beggar."
And then both laughed again.
"But now tell me whom does Pan Henryk love? I asked him, but he would not tell me."
"Henryk? Do you know" (here he looked at me askance) "he is not in love with any one yet, perhaps, but he will love. Oh, I know perfectly whom! and as to me "
"As to you, what?" inquired Hania, trying to conceal her confusion.
"I would do the very same but wait a bit; he may be in love already."
"I beg thee to stop, Selim."
"Thou, my honest boy," said Selim, putting his arm around my neck "Ah, if you knew how honest he is."
"Oh, I know that," said Hania; "I remember what he was to me after my grandfather's death."
A cloud of sadness flew between us then.
"I will tell you," said Selim, wishing to change the subject, "that after examination we had a little feast with our master "
"And drank?"
"Yes. Oh, that is the custom which one cannot avoid. So while we were drinking, I, being, as you know, a giddy fellow, raised a toast to you. I acted unwisely, but Henryk sprang up: 'How dare you mention Hania in such a place as this?' said he to me; for that was a wine-cellar. We came near fighting. But he will not let any one offend you, no, no "
Hania gave me her hand. "How good you are, Pan Henryk!"
"Well," answered I, carried away by Selim's words, "say thyself, Hania, is not Selim just as honest, since he tells this?"
"Oh, what great honesty!" said Selim, laughing.
"But it is," answered Hania; "you are worthy of each other, and we shall have such a pleasant time in company."
"You will be our queen!" cried Selim, with enthusiasm.
"Gentlemen! Hania! we invite you to tea," called Pani d'Yves from the garden veranda.
We went to tea, all three of us in the very best feeling. The table was set under the veranda; the lights, shielded by glass tubes, burned brightly, and moths in a swarm circled around them; they butted against the glass walls of the tubes; the leaves of wild grapevines rustled, moved by the warm night air; and beyond the poplars rose a great golden moon. The last conversation between Hania, Selim, and myself had brought us to a wonderfully mild, friendly tone. That calm and quiet evening acted also on the older persons. My father's face and the priest's were as serene as the sky.