“May God help us to realize that!” answered Macko. “Sweet Jesus! I would go on foot to the grave of the queen in Krakow or to Lysa Gora[86] to bow to the Holy Cross.”
The abbot was very much pleased with such sincerity; he smiled and said:
“The girl is perfectly right to be particular in her choice, because she is pretty, rich and of good family! Of what account are Cztan or Wilk, when the son of a wojewoda would not be too good for her! But if somebody, as myself for instance, spoke in favor of any particular one, then she would marry him, because she loves me and knows that I will advise her well.”
“The one whom you advise her to marry, will be very lucky,” said Macko.
But the abbot turned to Zbyszko:
“What do you say to this?”
“Well, I think the same as my uncle does.”
The face o
