with his words; that
my bitter lot should be rendered still more bitter; that my young
life should be made yet more sad; that my death should seem even more
terrible; and that, dying, I should reproach thee still more, O cruel
fate! and thee--forgive my sin--O holy mother of God!"

As she ceased in despair, her feelings were plainly expressed in her
face. Every feature spoke of gnawing sorrow and, from the sadly bowed
brow and downcast eyes to the tears trickling down and drying on her
softly burning cheeks, seemed to say, "There is no happiness in this
face."

"Such a thing was never heard of since the world began. It cannot be,"
said Andrii, "that the best and most beautiful of women should suffer so
bitter a fate, when she was born that all the best there is in the world
should bow before her as before a saint. No, you will not die, you shall
not die! I swear by my birth and by all there is dear to me in the
world that you shall not die. But if it must be so; if nothing, neither
strength, nor prayer, nor heroism, will avail to avert this cruel
fate--then we will die together, and I will die first. I will die before
you, at your beauteous knees, and even in death they shall not divide
us."

"Deceive not yourself and me, noble sir," she said, gently shaking her
beautiful head; "I know, and to my great sorrow I know but too well,
that it is impossible for you to love me. I know what your duty is, and
your faith. Your father calls you, your comrades, your country, and we
are your enemies."

"And what are my father, my comrades, my country to me?" said Andrii,
with a quick movement of his head, and straightening up his figure like
a poplar beside the river. "Be that as it may, I have no one, no one!"
he repeated, with that movement of the hand with which the Cossack
expresses his determination to do some unheard-of deed, impossible to
any other man. "Who says that the Ukraine is my country? Who gave it to
me for my country? Our country is the one our soul longs for, the one
which is dearest of all to us. My country is--you! That is my native
land, and I bear that country in my heart. I will bear it there all my
life, and I will see whether any of the Cossacks can tear it thence. And
I will give everything, barter everything, I will destroy myself, for
that country!"

Astounded, she gazed in his eyes for a space, like a beautiful statue,
and then suddenly burst out sobbing; and with the wonderful feminine
impetuosi