"That gate. How is it possible to race so at random?" "At random? I saw very well that the gate was closed. Oho! I have my perfect Tartar eyes." "And thou dost not fear to race so?" Selim laughed. "Not in the least, Father Ludvik. But for that matter, the merit is my horse's, not mine." "There is a bold boy for you!" said Pani d'Yves. "Oh, that is true! Not every man would dare that," added Hania. "It is thy wish to say," added I, "that not every horse could clear the gate, for more such men could be found." Hania gazed long at me. "I would not advise you to try," said she; then she turned toward Selim and her look expressed admiration, for really this daring deed of the Tartar was one of those risks which always please women. One should have seen him at that moment, his fine, dark hair falling on his forehead, his cheeks flushed from the swift movement, his gleaming eyes, from which shone delight and gladness. As he stood there near Hania, looking her in the eyes with curiosity, no artist could have imagined a more beautiful couple. But I was touched in the highest degree by her words. It seemed to me that that, "I would not advise thee to try," had been spoken in a voice in which a tone of irony was trembling. I looked with an inquiring glance at my father, who had examined Selim's horse a moment before. I knew his parental ambition; I knew that he was jealous the moment that any one surpassed me in anything, and this had angered him toward Selim for a long time. I concluded, therefore, that he would not oppose in case I wished to show that I was not a worse horseman than Selim. "That horse gallops well, father," said I. "Yes, and that Satan sits well," muttered he. "Couldst thou do the same?" "Hania doubts," answered I, with a certain bitterness. "May I try?" My father hesitated, looked at the gate, at the horse, at me, and said,-- "Give peace." "Naturally!" exclaimed I, in sorrow; "it is better for me to be counted an old woman in comparison with Selim." "Henryk! what art thou saying?" cried Selim, encircling my neck with his arms. "Gallop! gallop, boy! and do your best," said my father, whose pride was touched. "Bring the horse here!" called I to Franek, who was leading the tired steed slowly around the yard. "Pan Henryk!" cried Hania, springing up from her seat, "then I am the cause of this trial. I do not wish it; I do not wish it. Do not do it; do not, for my sake!" And while speaking, she looked me in the eyes, as if she wished to finish with her eyes that which she could not express in words. Ah! for that look I would have given the last drop of my blood at that moment; but I could not and would not draw back. My offended pride was stronger just then than aught else; so I mastered myself and answered dryly,-- "Thou art mistaken, Hania, in thinking that thou art the cause. I shall clear the gate to amuse myself."