When the unhappy holiday eventually came to an end, Wladek returned to the castle with joy. Leon welcomed him back with open arms; for him, as isolated by the wealth of Ms father as Wladek was by the poverty of the trapper, it had also been a Christmas with little to celebrate. From then on the two boys grew even closer and soon became inseparable. When the summer holidays came around, Leon begged his father to allow Wladek to remain at the castle.

The Baron agreed for he too had grown to love Wladek. Wladek was overjoyed and only entered the trapper's cottage once again in his life.

When Wladek and Leon had finished their classroom work, they would spend the remaining hours playing games. Their favourite was chowanego, a sort of hide and,seek; as the castle had seventy - two rooms, the chance of repetition was small. Wladek's favourite hiding place was in the dungeons under the castle, in which the only light by which one could be discovered came through a small stone grille set high in the wall and even then one needed a candle to find one's way around. Wladek was not sure what purpose the dungeons served, and none of the servants ever made mention of them, as they had never been used in anyone's memory.

Wladek was conscious that he was Leon's equal only in the classroom, and was no competition for his friend when they played any game, other than chess. The river Strchara that bordered the estate became an extension to their playground. In spring they fished, in summer they swam, and in winter, when the river was frozen over, they would put on their wooden skates and chase each other across the ice, while Florentyna sat on the river bank anxiously warning them where the surface was th:in. But Wladek never heeded her and was always the one who fell in. Leon grew quickly and strong; he ran well, swam well and never seemed to tire or be ill. Wladek became aware for the first time what good - looking and well - built meant, and he knew when he swam, ran, and skated he could never hope to keep up with Leon. Much worse, what Leon called the belly button was, on him, almost unnoticeable, while Wladek's was stumpy and ugly and protruded rudely from the middle of his plump body. Wladek would spend long hours in the quiet of his own room, studying his physique in a mirror, always asking why, and in particular why only one nipple for him when all the boys he had ever seen barechested had the two that the symmetry df the human body appeared to require. Sometimes as he lay in bed unable to sleep, he would finger his naked chest and tears of self - pity would flood on to the pillow. He would finally fall asleep praying that when he awoke in the morning, things would be different. His praym were not answered.

Wladek put aside each night a time to do physical exercises that could not be witnessed by anyone, not even Florentyna. Through sheer determination he learned to hold himself so that he looked taller. He built up his arms and his legs and hung by the tips of his fingers from a beam in the bedroom in the hope that it would make him grow, but Leon grew taller even while he slept. Wladek was forred to accept the.fact that he would always be a head shorter than the Baron~s son, and that nothing, nothing was ever going to produce the missing nipple. Wladek's dislike of his own body was unprompted, for Leon never commented on his friend's appearance; his knowledge of other children stopped short at Wladek, whom he adored uncritically.

Baron Rosnovski became increasingly fond of the fierre dark - haired boy who had replaced the younger brother for Leon, so tragically lost when his wife had died in childbirth.

The two boys would dine with him in the great stonewalled hall fmch evening, while the flickering candles cast ominous shadows from the stuffed animal heads on the wall and the - servants came and went noiselessly with jthe great silver trays and golden plates, bearing geese, hams, crayfish, fine wine and fruits, and sometimes the mazureks that had become Wladek's particular favourites. Afterwards as the darkness fell ever more thickly around the table, the Baron dismissed the waiting servants and would tell the boys stories of Polish history and allowed them a sip of Danzig vodka, in which the tiny gold leaves sparkled br - avely in the candlelight. Wladek begged as often as he dared for the story of Tadeusz; Kosciuszko.

'A great patriot and hero,' the Baron would reply. '

The very symbol of our struggle for independence, trained in France 'Whose people we admire and love as we have learned to hate all Russians and Austrians,' supplied Wladek, whose pleasure in the tale was enhanced by his word - perfect knowledge of it.

'Who is telling whom the story, Wadek?' The Baron laughed. '... And then fought with George Washington in America for liberty and democracy. In 1792 he led the Poles in battle at Dubienka. When our wretched king, Stanislas Augustus, deserted us to join the Russians, Kosciuszko returned to the homeland he loved to throw off the yoke of Tsardom. He won the battle of where, Leon?'