Page:Halek's Stories and Evensongs.pdf/49

 he wished to say good-bye to all the birds in the wood, and as if he gave them to understand that he was going to search for himself a hill-side, a wood, and a hollow tree—everything in another corner of the world. Krista sang to his accompaniment, and it seemed quite impossible for these two beings ever to be separated, for that playing and that singing to isolated from one another. They were so closely united that it was impossible to think of them as two.

“Do you know what,” cried Venik of a sudden, with as much delight as if he had found a treasure, “we will not go out to service anywhere. We will go into the world, I with my violin, and you shall sing to it.”

They knew what the world was like which they would have entered on as farm-servants behind the barn, and wished to enter it. But they might quit their home for other scenes, and that would be also to go into the world. They had been willing to take service with people; now they would go and make people merry with singing and music—would that be worse than service?

All that Venik now thought about was how he could get his clothes quietly into their wallet as Krista had done, and then they would be off. And they arranged between them that Krista should pass the night in the hollow tree, and keep watch over Venik’s violin, lest haply they should lose it just at the very time when they had most need of it. Then he was to bring his clothes there at night and they were to be off before the break of day.

The seed which is no longer sheltered by the husk is easily carried away by the wind: these children had lost the sheltering husk of home, and the wind carried them away. They quickly came to an understanding about a plan and the means of carrying it out.

When that day at even Venik drove his flock homeward, he drove them quickly, as he did on the day when he heard the funeral bell toll out the news of his father’s death. But he drove them with different feelings. For indeed the circumstances were different. Venik was in high spirits. To-day he longed for something to occur which should bring down upon him the wrath of the peasant Riha, his uncle; such wrath that he would have to fly his home, and then he and Krista would be just in the same plight. This he did not succeed in bringing about, but it was not for want of trying.

Riha’s wife greeting him with these words, “Haven’t you said farewell to that precious bride of yours?” she said. “At last we