CHAPTER XIX.

Two persons rode quietly and slowly through the woody
ravine which skirted the dwelling at Rozlogi. The night
had become very dark, for the moon had gone down long
before, and besides clouds covered the sky. In the ravine
nothing could be seen three steps ahead of the horses,
which stumbled over the roots of the trees sticking across
the road. They went for a long time with the greatest
care, till at length, when they saw the end of the ravine,
and the open steppe, lighted a little by the gray reflection
of the clouds, one of the riders whispered, "Spur on!"

They shot ahead, like two arrows sent from Tartar bows.
Nothing followed them but the sound of hoofs. The dark
steppe seemed to fly from under their beasts. Single oak-
trees standing here and there by the roadside swept past
like phantoms, and they fled for a long time without rest or
drawing breath, till finally the horses dropped their ears
and began to snort from weariness, their gait grew heavy
and slow.

"There is no help for it, the horses must slacken their
pace," said one of the travellers, a heavy man.

Just then dawn began to push night from the steppe.
Every moment a broader expanse came out from the dark-
ness; the thistles of the steppe were outlined indistinctly,
the distant trees, the mounds; every moment more light was
diffused in the air. The whitish gleams lighted up the
faces of the riders too. They were Pan Zagloba and Helena.

"No help for it, we must let the horses slacken their
speed," said Zagloba. "Yesterday they came from Chigirin
to Rozlogi without resting. They cannot endure this kind
of travelling long. I am afraid they may drop dead. How
do you feel?"

Here Zagloba looked at his companion, and not waiting
for her to answer, cried out,--

"Oh, let me look at you in the daylight! Oh, ho! are
those your cousin's clothes? It must be said you are a
splendid Cossack. I've not had in all my life such another
waiting-man; but I think Pan Skshetuski will take him
from me soon. But what is this? Oh, for God's sake,