"Perhaps the Lord Jesus will send us an inspiration," said he. "And will bless us," added Wilk. "According to justice." They went to church, and having listened devoutly to the mass, they grew more hopeful. They did not lose their temper after mass, when Jagienka again accepted holy water from Zbyszko. In the church-yard they bowed to Zych, to Jagienka and even to the abbot, although he was an enemy of Wilk of Brzozowa. They scowled at Zbyszko, but did not attempt to touch him, although their hearts were throbbing with grief, anger and jealousy; never before had Jagienka seemed to them to be as beautiful as she was then. When the brilliant retinue moved on and when from afar they heard the merry song of the ambulant seminarists, Cztan began to wipe the perspiration from his hairy cheeks and to snort like a horse; as for Wilk, he said, gnashing his teeth: "To the inn! To the inn! Woe to me!" Afterward remembering what had relieved them before, they again seized the stone and rolled it back to its former place. Zbyszko rode beside Jagienka, listening to the abbot's _shpilmen_ singing merry songs; but when they had traveled five or six furlongs, he suddenly reined in his horse, and said: "Oh! I intended to pay for a mass to be said for uncle's health and I forgot it; I must return." "Do not go back!" exclaimed Jagienka; "we will send from Zgorzelice." "No, I will return, and you must not wait for me. With God!" "With God," said the abbot. "Go!" And his face brightened; when Zbyszko disappeared, he touched Zych with his elbow and said: "Do you understand?" "What?" "He will surely fight in Krzesnia with Wilk and Cztan; but I wished for it and I am glad." "They are dreadful boys! If they wound him, then what of it?" "What of it? If he fight for Jagienka, then how can he afterward think about that other girl, Jurandowna? From this time, Jagienka will be his lady, not the other girl; and I wish it because he is my relative and I like him." "Bah! What about his vow?" "I will give him absolution in the twinkling of an eye! Have you not heard that I promised to absolve him?" "Your head is wise about everything," answered Zych. The abbot was pleased with this praise; then he approached nearer Jagienka and asked: "Why are you so sad?" She leaned on the saddle, seized the abbot's hand and lifted it to her mouth: "Godfather, could you not send your _shpilmen_ to Krzesnia?" "What for? They will get drunk in the inn--that's all." "But they may prevent a quarrel." The abbot looked into her eyes and then said sharply: "Let them even kill him." "Then they must kill me also!" exclaimed Jagienka. The bitterness which had accumulated in her bosom since that conversation about Danusia with Zbyszko, mingled with grief, now gushed forth in a stream of tears. Seeing this, the abbot encircled her with his arm, almost covering her with his enormous sleeve, and began to talk: