“I am. It moves within me with continual leaps; I feel nigh swooning!”
“Prithee, lie down, and drink a hot infusion of wild thyme.—Ye were too much shaken yesterday.”
She was greatly concerned; but, scenting the reek of fried blood-pudding, sat down to breakfast with the others.
“And you too, mistress, eat ye a morsel: hunger can do no good.”
“I have a loathing for meat now: I’ll make myself some tea.”
“That’s good to cleanse the bowels; but ye’ll be sooner well if ye take hot vodka, boiled with lard and spices.”
“No doubt: such medicine might even raise one from the dead,” Pete laughed. He had ensconced himself close to Yagna, following her eyes, offering her courteously anything she happened to look upon, and trying to enter into conversation. But she took little notice of him; and so he presently came to ask Yagustynka about the prisoners she had seen.
“I have seen them all,” she said. “They are not in cells apart, but in large rooms, as in a Manor, with plenty of light and good floors. Only, at all the windows there is a sort of cobweb of iron, lest they should take a fancy to walk out of doors. As for their food, it is none of the worst. … I tried the peas-porridge they get at noonday. It seemed to have been boiled in an old boot, and seasoned with axle-grease! … There was fried millet, too.—As to that, our dog Lapa would not have touched it, no, nor smelt at it either, but done something else, belike! … They have to live at their own expense; and if anyone lacks money, let him pray over his food to improve it,” she wound up in her usual sour fashion.
“Some, they say, are to come back next Sunday,” she added, lowering her voice with a glance at Hanka. At this, Yagna started up and left the room; and Yagustynka set to talking about Kozlova’s expedition.
“They came home late, having quite failed; but they beheld sausages on every side, and had a good look round at the Manor. They inform us, it smells otherwise than do our cabins!—But the Squire said he could in no wise help them; that was the affair of the Commissioner and the Government. Even were he able, for no man of Lipka would he do aught: he was the greatest sufferer of all, and because of them!—Look you, he has been forbidden to sell the forest, and the merchants are now bringing actions against him on that account.—He swore brimstone oaths, and cried out that, if he had to be a beggar because of the peasants, he hoped the plague might destroy them all!—All the morning, Kozlova has been carrying this news from hut to hut, and threatening revenge.”
“The more fool she. What harm can threats do?”
“My dear, we all know that the very weakest can find a place where to strike home!”—Here she broke off abruptly, and ran to support Hanka, who was leaning helpless against the wall.
“Good God!” she murmured in dismay; “is a miscarriage coming on?” And she put her to bed. Hanka had fainted, her face was covered with drops of perspiration, and flecked with yellowish spots; she lay scarce breathing, while the old woman dabbed her temples with vinegar. Then she put some horseradish to her nostrils and Hanka opened her eyes and came to.
The others went to fulfil their several duties. Vitek alone remained, and when a convenient opportunity offered itself, begged his mistress to let him take his automaton into the village.
“Well, you may; but take heed to behave yourself, and not soil your garments. Tie up the dogs, lest they run after you everywhere.—When will you start?”
“After Vespers.”
Yagustynka then put her head in at the window, and said:
“Where are the dogs, Vitek? I was taking food to them, but neither of them comes to eat.”
“Aye, and I have not seen Lapa in the byre this morning. Hither, Burek! come hither!” he cried, running to and fro; but no bark answered his calls.
“They must,” he said, “have wandered out some distance.”
No one could think where the dogs had gone. After some time, however, Yuzka heard a faint whining sound, that seemed to be somewhere in the yard. Finding nothing there, she went into the orchard, fancying that Vitek was punishing some dog that had strayed on to the premises. To her surprise, no one was in sight; the place was now silent, the whining had ceased. But, going back, she stumbled over Burek’s body. It lay dead close to the cabin, its head beaten in!
Her cries at once brought the whole household to the place.
“Burek has been killed—by thieves, I doubt not!”
“Surely and indeed, ’tis so!” Yagustynka screamed, seeing a lot of earth dug out, and a large pit yawning beneath the foundations.
“They have dug through, even to Father’s storeroom!”
“Why, a horse might have been dragged through so large a hole!”
“And the pit is sprinkled all about with grains of corn!”
“O Lord! peradventure the robbers are still in there!” Yuzka cried.
They rushed into Boryna’s dwelling. Yagna had gone out; the old man lay like a log; but in the storeroom that was usually dark, there now was light from the hole which had been dug, and everything within was plainly visible, strewn about in the greatest disorder. The corn had been poured out over the floor pell-mell with articles of clothing torn down from the poles they had been stretched on; and among these, pieces of wool, unspun or spun into many a yarn and hank, lay twisted and torn and tangled.—But what had been stolen? No one could tell as yet.
Hanka nevertheless was sure this was the blacksmith’s doing, and reflected with a hot flush that, had she waited but one day more, he would have found and taken the money. She bent forward over the pit to hide from all present her feelings of satisfaction.
“Is naught missing in the byre?” she asked, feigning uneasiness.
By good luck, all was right there.
“The
