Thenceforth that moment recurred to his mind frequently when she, so pale and with outstretched arms, exclaimed, "I have found thee, my Kazimir!" If only he wished, he could go to her, love her, and be loved by her. This plan of probable love did not let him sleep. Like every young man, he felt the need of love; his heart beat violently, as if it wanted to burst, broken by its own strength. And so far he knew no woman except the widow. The black boots and white stockings of the countess passed before his eyes, but that slight imagining vanished into nothingness. He remembered meanwhile how on a certain time during conversation he had held the widow's hand; he remembered what a wish he had had to kiss it, but he remembered also how ominously Gustav's eyes were glittering at that moment. Jealousy seized him. Occasionally a scarcely visible cloud, regret for a premature promise, sped past in his soul and hid somewhere in its darkest caves. Then he repeated in a very tragic tone, "I have promised, I will not go." One thing more angered him,--to people respected and more advanced in life this would seem a paradox,--the quiet of life angered him. Science came to him easily, he did not expend all his powers, and this roused distaste in him. Fresh, active natures, like young soldiers, feel a need of bathing in the fire of battle. This desire of his to fight which at a more advanced age seems to us improbable, becomes in certain years, and quite seriously, one of the needs of the spirit. Let us remember Yosef's monologue in Gustav's room, the first day of his coming to Kieff. He wanted then to throw down the gauntlet in the name of science or the name of feeling, before the whole world. Young eagles try to fly with a cloud above them and an abyss underneath. Even the most common man, before learning that he is a turtle, has moments in which he thinks himself an eagle. In such a condition was Yosef, and in this case there was simply no one with whom to be at sword's-points. In the University he had a greater or less number of adherents, a field in the wide world might open, but Yosef did not know this wide world yet. Suddenly something happened which snatched him from his lethargy. Augustinovich had acted in a way that offended the honor of students. They determined to expel him. That was not his first offence, but the students had always passed those matters over among themselves, not wishing to be compromised in public opinion; now the measure had been exceeded. We will not acquaint the reader with the offence; what concern have we with foulness? It is enough that a court composed of students had decided to expel the offender. From such decisions there was no appeal, for the University authorities always confirmed them; an appeal would only make it more widely known. Indignation among students was great; no one took the part of Augustinovich except Yosef, who rousing half the University exerted his power to save the man.