They were joined by the Ploshka women and several others, who embraced their cause, and with whom they visited the priest. He, however, stretching out his open hands before him, said:
“With these doings I will have naught in common. I cannot prevent them; but I want to know nothing about the whole business, and shall be going to Zarnov tomorrow for the whole day.”
The evening was noisy with quarrels and contradictions and secret plottings: when night fell, all those in the plot repaired to the tavern, where the organist stood treat to them all. There they once more set about debating and deliberating: the foremost farmers and nearly all the married women in Lipka were there. They had been conferring together for some time, when Ploshka’s wife shouted:
“Antek Boryna, where is he? All are assembled here, and he is the foremost amongst us; no decision we took without him would be valid.”
“Yes, we will send for him; he must come!” they shouted; “we can do nothing till he is here.”
“What if he take her part?” said a voice.
“Would he dare to oppose us—us, the community? For we are determined—all, all, all!”
Antek was in bed, but the Soltys woke him up.
“Ye must go and speak your mind. If you will not, then they’ll say you are for her, and fly in the face of our assembly! And your trespasses in the past will never be forgiven by the women!—Come now; we must put an end to all this!”
He went indeed, for he could not choose but go; but with a heavy heart.
The tavern was full to bursting, and resonant with a loud droning sound. The organist then got up on a bench, and made a speech like a sermon.
“… Nothing else is to be done! The village is like unto a house, from which, if a thief shall take away one of the foundation beams, another will greedily seize upon the rafters, and a third a log from the walls; and presently the house itself must fall, and crush all the dwellers therein! See then: if amongst us everyone shall be free to rob and slay and do all manner of wrong, behaving lewdly, what will become of the village? I say to you that it will be a village no longer, but a shame and a disgrace to every honest man! that all men will shun it from afar, and cross themselves when it is named! Aye, and I say that sooner or later a judgment of God must fall on such a village, even as on Sodom and Gomorrah! Yea, it will fall, and on all of us; for we shall be guilty, both those that do evil themselves, and they that permit the evil to increase! For what says Holy Scripture? ‘If thy hand offend thee, cut it off; if thine eye hath trespassed, pluck it out and throw it to the dogs.’—Moreover, I say to you, Yagna is worse than the plague, worse than any pestilence; for she sows seeds of scandal, sins against all God’s commandments, and draws down upon us the wrath and terrible vengeance of our Lord. Drive her out, then, while it is not yet too late! The measure of her iniquities is full; the day of reckoning has come at last!” he concluded, bellowing like a bull, with purple face and eyes starting out of their sockets.
“Yes, yes! It is time!—We, the people, have power both to punish and to reward!—Drive her from the village!” they all shouted, their excitement now waxing greater and greater.
Gregory and others spoke too, but were hardly listened to: the organist’s wife was telling of the affair with Yanek, the Voytova pouring her grievances into everyone’s ears; and, others joining in to swell the hubbub, the whole place was roaring with the noise.
Antek alone said not a word. He stood close to the bar, gloomy, his teeth set hard, pale with the torments he endured, and at times assailed with a wild craving to snatch up a bench, beat the whole shrieking mob to a jelly and trample them under his feet: so odious they were to him! But he kept himself in hand, though drinking glass after glass of liquor; only he spat on the ground, and swore under his breath.
Ploshka addressed him after a time, and said aloud, for all to hear: “We are at one to drive Yagna from the village: come, Antek, speak your mind on the matter.”
A great silence fell upon the multitude; every eye was fixed upon him: they felt sure he would be against them. He, however, drew a deep breath, threw back his shoulders, and answered in a ringing voice:
“I, living with the community, am of one mind with the community. Will ye expel her? Do. Will ye exalt her? Do.—To me ’tis all one.”
He pushed the crowd apart and left the place, without even a glance at anyone.
They continued the debate a long time, even till the morning light; but in the end it was quite decided that she should be expelled.
But few took her part; those who did were shouted down. Matthew alone fearlessly dealt curses around upon them all and, reviling the whole village in the utmost paroxysm of fury, left the place at last, and went to beg Antek to save Yagna.
“Do ye know what has been decided?” he asked him at dawn, pale as death and trembling from head to foot.
“I know. Law and custom are on their side,” he replied curtly, whilst washing his face at the well.
“To hell with such laws! It’s all the work of the organist and his wife. … Shall we put up with such injustice?—In what has she been to blame? All their accusations are mere lies! … Lord! are they to hunt her from our midst, like a mad dog?”
“Would you, then, resist the
