ne: there was really no getting at
him. And if once he had his weapons handy, then he could always cut his
way through his enemies, even if he were completely surrounded.

"Fatia Negra," said the girl, throwing her arms round his neck, "last
night I had an evil dream. I dreamt that the smallpox had ruined my
face. Would you love me if I were pockmarked?"

"Yes, I would still love you," replied the adventurer.

"Well, as it happens I am not. Kiss me! Then I dreamt another dream. I
dreamt that all our property was destroyed. I was a ragged wandering
beggar with my head tied up. Would you love me if I were a ragged
beggar?"

"Little fool, of course I should love you."

"Then embrace me nicely. After that I dreamt that some one had shut me
up in prison for some great offence; they had condemned me to many
years' imprisonment, condemned me to spend all my youth behind
iron-barred windows and they would only let me free again when I had
become a wrinkled old hag. Would you love me if I was in prison? Would
you come and stand outside my iron bars and speak to me now and then?"

"Stop this foolish chatter! Who is able to answer such questions?" and
in order that she should obey the more readily he closed her mouth with
kisses.

But as soon as the kisses were over, she began to prattle again:

"But after that I went on dreaming again, and I dreamt what made me very
angry with myself. I dreamt that I married someone else and forgot you.
Would you still love me if I were to deceive you and wed another?"

"Yes, I would love you even then, Anicza,--and my love for you would
make me shoot you through the heart."

How the girl laughed when he said this!

"Wait a bit," said she, "and you will see that it will all come to pass.
I shall grow sick and ugly. I shall become a poor beggar. They will send
me to prison and make a slave of me. I shall deceive you and wed
another. Then we shall see whether you will love me; then we shall see
whether you will kill me."

Anicza thought all this so amusing that she laughed aloud. The noise
brought old Onucz into the room. His daughter turned towards him
smilingly. "Isn't it true, father, that three suitors are courting me?"
she asked. "I was asking Fatia Negra which of the three I should take."

Old Onucz scratched his nose pretty hard at this question. He would have
liked to have said: "whichever you like, as long as it is the right
one!" but he was afraid of offending Fatia Negra.