ear
decision; his velvet brows curved in a bold arch; his sunburnt cheeks
glowed with all the ardour of youthful fire; and his downy black
moustache shone like silk.

"No, I have no power to thank you, noble sir," she said, her silvery
voice all in a tremble. "God alone can reward you, not I, a weak woman."
She dropped her eyes, her lids fell over them in beautiful, snowy
semicircles, guarded by lashes long as arrows; her wondrous face bowed
forward, and a delicate flush overspread it from within. Andrii knew not
what to say; he wanted to say everything. He had in his mind to say it
all ardently as it glowed in his heart--and could not. He felt something
confining his mouth; voice and words were lacking; he felt that it was
not for him, bred in the seminary and in the tumult of a roaming life,
to reply fitly to such language, and was angry with his Cossack nature.

At that moment the Tatar entered the room. She had cut up the bread
which the warrior had brought into small pieces on a golden plate, which
she placed before her mistress. The lady glanced at her, at the bread,
at her again, and then turned her eyes towards Andrii. There was a great
deal in those eyes. That gentle glance, expressive of her weakness and
her inability to give words to the feeling which overpowered her, was
far more comprehensible to Andrii than any words. His heart suddenly
grew light within him, all seemed made smooth. The mental emotions and
the feelings which up to that moment he had restrained with a heavy
curb, as it were, now felt themselves released, at liberty, and anxious
to pour themselves out in a resistless torrent of words. Suddenly the
lady turned to the Tatar, and said anxiously, "But my mother? you took
her some?"

"She is asleep."

"And my father?"

"I carried him some; he said that he would come to thank the young lord
in person."

She took the bread and raised it to her mouth. With inexpressible
delight Andrii watched her break it with her shining fingers and eat
it; but all at once he recalled the man mad with hunger, who had expired
before his eyes on swallowing a morsel of bread. He turned pale and,
seizing her hand, cried, "Enough! eat no more! you have not eaten for
so long that too much bread will be poison to you now." And she at once
dropped her hand, laid her bread upon the plate, and gazed into his eyes
like a submissive child. And if any words could express--But neither
chisel, nor brush, nor mighty speech