Hania sat down again on the sofa, helpless. I looked at her; she was pale as linen. But pity for the poor girl had fled from me. I grasped her hand, and squeezing its small fingers, continued,-- "Hear me! I was at thy feet. I loved thee more than the whole world--" "Pan Henryk!" "Be silent. I saw and heard everything. Thou art shameless,--thou and he." "My God! my God!" "Thou art shameless. I would not have dared to kiss the hem of thy garment, and he kissed thee on the lips. Thou thyself didst draw him to thy kisses. Hania, I despise thee! I hate thee! I hate thee!" The voice died in my breast. I began to breathe quickly and catch for air, which was lacking in my breast. "Thou hast felt," said I, after a while, "that I will separate you. If I had to lose my life, I will separate you, even if I had to kill him, thee, and myself. What I said a moment ago is not true. He loves thee, he would not leave thee; but I will separate you." "Of what are you talking with so much earnestness?" asked Pani d'Yves, who was sitting at the other end of the room. There was a moment when I wanted to spring up and tell everything; but I remembered myself, and said in an apparently calm though somewhat broken voice,-- "We were disputing as to which arbor in the garden is the more beautiful, the rose or the hop arbor." Selim stopped playing suddenly, and looked at us with attention, then he said with the greatest calmness,-- "I would give all others for the hop arbor." "Thy taste is not bad," answered I. "Hania is of the opposite opinion." "Is that true, Panna Hania?" asked he. "Yes," said she, in a low voice. Again I felt that I could not hold out longer in that conversation. Red circles began to flash before my eyes. I sprang up, and running through several chambers to the dining-room, seized a decanter of water standing on the table, and poured the water on my head. Then, without knowing what I did, I dashed the decanter to the floor, where it broke into a thousand bits, and ran to the entrance. My horse and Selim's were standing before the porch, saddled. I ran to my room for a moment to wipe the water from my face in some fashion; that done, I returned to the hall. In the hall I found the priest and Selim in the greatest terror. "What has happened?" asked I. "Hania has grown weak and fainted." "What? how?" cried I, grasping the priest by the arm. "Immediately after thy going she burst into loud weeping, and fainted. Pani d'Yves has taken her to her room." I flew to Pani d'Yves' chamber without saying a word. Hania had really burst into loud weeping and fainted, but the paroxysm had passed. When I saw her I forgot everything, fell on my knees before her bed like a madman, and, without noticing the presence of Pani d'Yves, cried,-- "Hania, my golden, my love! what is the matter with thee?" "Nothing, nothing now," answered she, in a weak voice, and she tried to smile. "Nothing now. Really nothing."