The sigh of relief heaved by Okoya at hearing these words was as sincere as it was deep.  He had barely strength to ask in the meekest manner possible,—­

“Then you have nothing against my going to Mitsha?”

“Nothing; I like to see you go, for Mitsha is good and”—­her voice became a whisper—­“the Shiuana have thus disposed it.  But”—­she spoke louder again—­“hear me, go to Mitsha, and to her alone.”

“But I cannot disown her mother and father.”

“You need do nothing of the kind unless you wish.  Be pleasant to the man, as behooves you, but be careful.  Never say sanaya is doing this or that, or to-day they speak so or so at the estufa.  If Tyope queries what is your yaya doing, answer, her usual work.  If he inquires about what is going on in the estufa of Tanyi hanutsh, reply to him, ’Nashtio, I am only a boy, and do not know what the men talk about.’  To Tyope’s wife say nothing but what even Shyuote might hear.  To the makatza you can say, ’Let us be together and live for each other and talk as is right.  What concerns your hanutsh shall be hidden from me, and I will be silent on anything that concerns mine.’  If you will do thus, sa uishe, then you can go to see Mitsha; and I myself would like to see the girl who is to become my child.”

This was too much for Okoya.  He grasped with both his hands the hand of his mother, carried it to his lips, and breathed on it.  Then he gave back the hand, and said with an effort,—­

“You are good, yaya, and I will do as you say.  Hayoue said to me the same things you have.”

“Hayoue is a true friend.  His tongue is like his heart, and you did right in taking his advice.”

A tall figure stepped into the apartment with a shuffling step.  His loud greeting, “guatzena,” cut off further talk for a moment.  Both mother and son, taken by surprise, answered,—­

“Raua [=A].”

It was Hayoue himself who thus suddenly appeared.  He complied with the request to sit down, and afterward with the customary invitation to eat.  But he seemed as much surprised as the inmates themselves; for while eating, his glance flitted inquiringly from mother to son, as if he were astonished to see them together.  When he had finished, he asked,—­

“When will Zashue be here?”

“I do not know,” replied Say.

Hayoue turned to his nephew,—­

“Okoya, will you let me speak to your yaya alone?” These words he accompanied with a knowing wink at the young man.  It amused Okoya to see that his uncle came so decidedly post festum in the matter, but he at once rose and went out.

In the court-yard it was still very damp, and hardly anybody was outside of the dwellings; but from the estufas there sounded merry talking, singing, and the beating of drums.  Okoya stood a while in the doorway, undecided whether he ought not to go to Mitsha at once.  He wavered, but at last the impressions received during the day, especially the warnings about Mitsha’s mother, prevailed, and he concluded not to go at this time.  He was afraid as yet to cross the threshold of that woman’s home.  So he crept into the estufa of Tanyi hanutsh, sat down beside the others, and soon joined in the chorus of discordant voices in the everlasting refrain,—­