"The _pan_ was walking in the room and the _panna_ followed him. He shouted, but the _panienka_ said nothing; but when he turned toward her, she kneeled but did not utter one word. Finally the _panisko_[88] said: 'Have you become deaf, that you do not answer my questions? Speak then; perhaps I will consent.' Then the _panna_ understood that she could do as she wished and began to thank him. The _pan_ reproached her, because she had persuaded him, and complained that he must always do as she wished; finally he said: 'Promise me that you will not go secretly to bid him good-bye; then I will consent, but not otherwise.' Then the _panienka_ became very sorrowful, but she promised; the _pan_ was satisfied, because the abbot and he were both afraid that she would see you. Well, that was not the end of it; afterward the _panna_ wanted to send two horses, but the _pan_ would not consent; the _panna_ wanted to send a wolf-skin and a bag of money, but the _pan_ refused. His refusal did not amount to anything, however! If she wanted to set the house on fire, the _panisko_ would finally consent. Therefore I brought two horses, a wolf-skin and a bag of money." "Good girl!" thought Zbyszko. After a while he asked: "Was there no trouble with the abbot?" The Czech, an intelligent attendant, who understood what happened around him, smiled and answered: "They were both careful to keep everything secret from the abbot; I do not know what happened when he learned about it, after I left Zgorzelice. Sometimes he shouts at the _panienka_; but afterward he watches her to see if he did not wrong her. I saw him myself one time after he had scolded her, go to his chest and bring out such a beautiful chain that one could not get a better one even in Krakow, and give it to her. She will manage the abbot also, because her own father does not love her any more than he does." "That is certainly true." "As God is in heaven!" Then they became silent and rode along amidst wind and snow. Suddenly Zbyszko reined in his horse; from the forest beside the road, there was heard a plaintive voice, half stifled by the roar of the wind: "Christians, help God's servant in his misfortune!" Thereupon a man who was dressed partly in clerical clothing, rushed to the road and began to cry to Zbyszko: "Whoever you are, sir, help a fellow-creature who has met with a dreadful accident!" "What has happened to you, and who are you?" asked the young knight. "I am God's servant, although not yet ordained; this morning the horse which was carrying my chests containing holy things, ran away. I remained alone, without weapons; evening is approaching, and soon the wild beasts will begin to roar in the forest. I shall perish, unless you succor me." "If I let you perish," answered Zbyszko, "I will be accountable for your sins; but how can I believe that you are speaking the truth. You may be a highway robber, like many others wandering on the roads!"