"Danuska! what is the matter, Danuska?" asked Zbyszko.
"Why are you crying? Such a wedding!" exclaimed the princess. "Why?"
"I do not know," answered Danusia, sobbing. "I am so sad! I regret Zbyszko and you so much."
Then all became very sorrowful; they began to console her, and to explain to her that she was not going to remain in Spychow a long time, but that they would surely be with Jurand in Ciechanow for the holy days. Zbyszko again encircled her with his arm, drew her to his breast and kissed the tears from her eyes; but the oppression remained in all hearts, and thus the hours of night passed.
Finally from the court-yard there resounded such a sudden and dreadful noise, that all shivered. The princess, having rushed from the bench, exclaimed: "For God's sake. The sweeps of the wells! They are watering the horses!"
And the ksiondz Wyszoniek looked through the window, in which the glass balls were growing gray and said: "The night grows white and the day is coming. Ave Maria, gratia plena----"
Then he left the room but having returned after a while, he said: "The day breaks, but the day will be dark. Jurand's people are watering their horses. Poor girl, you must be ready!"
The princess and Danusia began to cry very loudly and both, together with Zbyszko, began to lament, as simple people do when they have to separate; it was half lamenting and half singing, which flowed from full souls, in a natural way, as the tears flow from the eyes.
"Hej! there is no use of lamenting, We must separate, my darling, Farewell--hej!"
Zbyszko nestled Danusia for the last time on his breast and kept her for a long time, as long as he could breathe and until the princess drew her from him, in order to dress her for the journey.
In the meanwhile it was broad daylight.
In the mansion everybody was up and moving round. The Czech came to Zbyszko to ask about his health and to ascertain what were his orders.
"Draw the bed to the window," said the knight to him.
The Czech drew the bed to the window, very easily; but he was surprised when Zbyszko told him to open it. He obeyed, however, only he covered his master with his own fur coat, because it was cold outside, although cloudy, and snow was falling.
Zbyszko began to look; in the court-yard, through the flakes of the falling snow, one could see lights, and round them, on steaming horses, Jurand's people were standing. All were armed. The forest was entirely covered with the snow; one could hardly see the enclosures and the gate.