“Are you afraid?” I whispered.

“No.”

“Give me your hand.”

She looked at me wonderingly.  Another moment and I should have folded her in my arms and pressed my lips against hers, and then let Ploszow be razed to the ground, by the tempest.  But she was terrified, not by the storm, but by the expression of my face and that whisper; she drew back from the window and returned to the room where the elder ladies were sitting.

I remained alone,—­with a feeling of anger and humiliation.  That I should have taken advantage of Aniela’s confidence is quite certain, and yet I felt offended by her want of trust, and resolved to pay her out in some way.  I stood for an hour at the window looking absently at the lightning flashes.  Then it grew lighter and lighter outside; at last the clouds parted, and the sun shone forth fresh and bright and as if wondering at the devastation the tempest had wrought.

It was very considerable; the avenues were still flooded with yellow, foaming water, above which floated broken branches.  Here and there big trees were lying about, snapped across or torn out by the roots; the bark was partly stripped from the trunks of pine trees, leaving what looked like gaping wounds.  Everywhere the eye could reach there was ruin and devastation, as if after a battle.

When the water had drained off a little I went out toward the ponds to ascertain the extent of the damage.  Suddenly the whole park became alive with people, who, with an almost savage energy, began to tear off the broken branches and chop at the fallen trunks.  It appears they were peasant-lodgers who had no right in the woods.  In the main, I did not care whether they gathered the sticks, but as they had come through the broken fence without permission, and in such a savage manner, I, being out of humor, began to drive them away, my anger rising at their stubborn resistance.  At last I threatened them with the village authorities, when suddenly, close by, the sweetest voice in the world said in French:—­

“Is there any harm in their clearing the park, Leon?”

I turned round and saw Aniela, her head covered with a kerchief tied under her chin.  With both hands she was holding up her dress, showing up to the ankles her little feet encased in high boots; bending slightly forward she looked at me entreatingly.

At her sight my anger vanished at once.  I forgot the unpleasant sensations that had troubled me a little while before, and looked at her as if I could never fill myself enough with the sight.

“Is it your wish?” I asked.

Then, turning to the people, I said:—­

“Take the wood, and thank the lady for the permission.”