“How true you speak!—Aye, it is the truth,” they all agreed, much abashed.
“Then,” someone proposed, “let’s buy Podlesie, and share it amongst ourselves.”
“Ye may buy a whole village; but whence shall the money come?” Matthew grunted.
“Wait a little: peradventure we may find a means.”
“Wait; do as ye please; I have enough of waiting, and am disgusted.—I’ll leave the country and go to the town!”
“Please yourself. But we—the others—must stay and take some step or other.”
“The devil take it all! We are so close that I wonder the walls do not fall apart, so many we are in each hut, with misery clamorous therein: while hard by, there are broad lands, asking but to be taken up. No, were we starving, there’s not the wherewithal to purchase it; nor can we borrow aught from anyone. To the devil with it!”
Then Gregory told them how things went on in other countries, and they listened mournfully, until Matthew interrupted him:
“Others are well off: what is that to us? Show a hungry man a dish and put it by: shall he fill his belly with the sight thereof? Elsewhere folk are protected; not so here, where every man grows like a wild tree upon waste land, and whether he succeeds or fails—provided only that he pay the taxes, serve in the army, and obey the officials—who cares?”
Gregory heard him out in silence, and started afresh.
“There is but one way to get Podlesie into our hands.”
Here they pressed closer to him, for a sudden hubbub had filled the great room: the panes were shaking with it, and the music had ceased. Someone went out and returned to tell them with a laugh what had taken place. Dominikova had come in with a stick for her sons, and caused a dreadful disturbance. She would have beaten and driven them home; but they had stood up to her, and made her leave the tavern; and now Simon was drinking to his heart’s content, and Andrew, completely muddled, was howling up the chimney.
They cared to hear no more, for now Gregory set to expound his plan. It was for the village to be reconciled with the Squire and then barter each acre of the forest for four acres of the Podlesie land!
The possibility of such a solution equally surprised and delighted them; and Gregory went on to tell them how a similar agreement had been made with a village near Plotsk, of which he had read in the papers.
“Good for us peasants!—Jew, more vodka!” Ploshka called out through the door.
“Aye, for every three acres of forest, exactly twelve of cornland!”
“And for ten, a big holding!”
“But he ought to let us have some faggots besides for firing!”
“And an acre of meadow-land each by the wood-skirts into the bargain!”
“And some timber for building also!”
Everyone had a fresh condition to add.
“And a horse apiece too,” Matthew sneered, “with a cart and a cow!”
“Be quiet!” cried Gregory.—“And now the farmers must meet, then see the Squire, and say what they wish to have. It may be that he will come to terms.”
Here Matthew cut in.
“That he will not, unless the knife be at his throat. He needs money now: the Germans will give it him any day. Whereas, ere our people have scratched their heads and agreed on one single point, and ere their wives too have given their advice, a month will pass by, and the Squire will by then have sold the land and turned his back on us, having money to await the result of the lawsuit. Gregory’s plan is good; but, to my mind, it needs setting upside-down to work well.”
“Say on then, Matthew, and advise us.”
“Not to talk—not to take counsel—but to act! … as we did for the forest!”
“To act is possible sometimes, and sometimes not,” Gregory muttered.
“I tell you it is possible … not by the same means, but to the same end.—Let us go tell the Germans not to venture on purchasing Podlesie!”
“Are they such fools—to fear us and obey?”
“If they refuse, we tell them they shall not either sow or build … nor move one step beyond their fields. Will they have no fear, think ye? Why, they would be like a fox that we smoke out of its earth.”
But here Gregory burst out: “As there’s a God in heaven, such threats will get us put in prison once more!”
“We should not lie in jail forever; and when we got out, ’twould be all the worse for them! … They are no fools, and will first take good thought whether they have aught to gain by fighting us.—And when we have driven his buyers away, the Squire will take another tone.—Or if not. …”
Gregory could keep silence no longer. Starting up, he did all he possibly could to dissuade them from such a reckless plan of campaign. He pointed out what actions at law must come of it, what fresh calamities to all of them, and the possibility of their being clapped in prison as rebels, and for several years! He showed, too, how everything might be arranged peaceably with the Squire alone. He went on talking to them till he was crimson, kissed them all, begged and implored them to give up that idea. All would not do, his words were in vain, and at last Matthew said:
“Ye are preaching! Ye talk like a book; but ’tis not what we want!”
At this they all set to banging their fists on the table, speaking at the same time, and shouting enthusiastically:
“Hurrah! Hurrah!—Down with the Germans! Away with the Long-Trousers! Matthew is right, we’ll do as he says, and whoso fears, let him hide his face!”
They were so excited, there was no reasoning with them.
At this juncture the Jew came in, bringing a bottle: he
