But his plan proved superfluous, since at that moment the page returned from the inn with a tray on which mugs of hot wine were steaming. "I beg to tell your grace that Pan Tachevski is here," began he on reaching the carriage. "Pan Tachevski? What the devil is he doing in this place?" "Pan Tachevski!" repeated Panna Anulka. "He is making ready, and will come out this minute," said the page. "He almost knocked the tray from my hand when he heard of your coming--" "But who spoke of the tray to thee?" The page became silent immediately, as if power of speech had deserted him. Pan Gideon seized a goblet of wine, took one and a second draught, and said then to Pan Stanislav, as if with a certain repulsion,-- "He is an acquaintance of ours, and in some sense a neighbor from Charny-- Well--rather giddy and unreliable--of those Tachevskis who long ago were, as some people say, of some note in the province." Further explanations were stopped by Tachevski, who, coming out hurriedly, walked with firm stride toward the carriage, but on his face was a certain hesitation. He was a young noble of medium stature. He had splendid dark eyes, and was as lean as a splinter. His head was covered with a Hungarian cap, recalling, one might say, the time of King Bátory; he wore a gray coat lined with sheepskin, and long, yellow, Swedish boots reaching up to his body. No one wore such boots then in Poland. They had been taken during war in the days of Yan Kazimir, that was evident, and brought now through need from the storehouse by Tachevski. While approaching, he looked first at Pan Gideon, then at the young lady, and smiled, showing white, perfect teeth, but his smile was rather gloomy, his face showed embarrassment and even a trace of confusion. "I rejoice beyond measure," said he, as he stood at the carriage and removed his cap gracefully, "to see, in good health, Pani Vinnitski and Panna Sieninski, with your grace, my benefactor, for the road is now dangerous; this I have learned from experience." "Cover your head, or your ears will be frozen," said Pan Gideon, abruptly. "I thank you for the attention, but why are you wandering through the wilderness?" Tachevski looked quickly at the young lady, as if to inquire: "Thou knowst why, dost thou not?" but seeing her eyes downcast, and noting also that she was biting a ribbon of her hood for occupation, he answered in a voice of some harshness,-- "Well, the fancy struck me to gaze at the moon above pine trees." "A pretty fancy. But did the wolves kill thy horse?" "They only ate him, for I myself drove his life out." "We know. And thou wert roosting, like a crow, all the night in a pine tree." Here the Bukoyemskis burst into such mighty laughter that their horses were put on their haunches. Tachevski turned and measured them one after another, with glances which were ice cold and as sharp as a sword edge.