"Thou hast no need to pursue them. They have not gone far. They took various roads and returned to Horeli Where could they go? Farce! They returned to Horeli, and fell at the feet of the old Mirza. They had no other escape. The old Mirza confined Selim in the granary, and the young lady he will take back to thy house. A farce, is it! But Hania! Hania! well!" "Pan Ustrytski!" "Well, well, my child, be not angry. I do not take this ill of her. My women, that is different. But why lose time?" "That is true; let us not lose time." Pan Ustrytski stopped for a moment. "I know now what to do. I will go straightway to Horeli, and do thou go home, or better wait here. If Hania is in Horeli, I will take her and go to thy house. Thou thinkest they may not give her to me? Farce! But I prefer to be with the old Mirza when we take her, for thy father is quick-tempered, ready to challenge the old man, but the old man is not to blame. Is he?" "My father is not at home." "So much the better!" Pan Ustrytski slapped his hands. "Yanek!" The servant entered. "Horses and a brichka for me in ten minutes. Dost understand?" "And horses for me?" said I. "And horses for this gentleman! Farce! lord benefactor." We were silent for a time. "Will you permit me to write a letter to Selim?" asked I. "I wish to challenge him by letter." "Why?" "I am afraid that the old man will not let him fight. He will confine him a time and think that sufficient. But for me that is little, little! If Selim is in prison already, you will not see him; that cannot be brought about through the old man; but a letter may be left for any one. Besides, I shall not tell my father that I am going to fight. He might challenge the old Mirza, and the old Mirza is not to blame. But if Selim and I fight to begin with, there will be no reason for their fighting. Indeed, you said yourself that I must fight with him." "I thought this way: fight, fight! That is always the best way for a noble; whether old or young, it is one. For some one else, a farce! but not for a noble. Well, write; thou art correct." I sat down and wrote as follows: "Thou art contemptible. With this letter I slap thee in the face. If thou wilt not appear to-morrow near Vah's cottage with pistols or with swords, thou wilt be the last of cowards, which very likely thou art." I sealed the letter and gave it to Pan Ustrytski. Then we went out; the brichkas had come already. Before sitting in mine, one terrifying thought came to my head. "But," said I to Pan Ustrytski, "if Selim took Hania not to Horeli?" "If not to Horeli, then he has gained time. It is night; there are fifty roads in every direction, and--look for a wind in the fields. But where could he have taken her?" "To the town of N." "Sixteen miles with the same horses. Then be at rest. A farce! isn't it? I will go to N. to-morrow, to-day even, but first to Horeli. I repeat to thee, be at rest."