Böhnke heard neither the calls nor the panting man who rushed after him. He was staggering across the fields as though intoxicated with joy, repeating the words, "My darling, my sweet one!" At that moment somebody caught hold of him by the nape of his neck, and as he was walking very shakily, he fell down without any show of resistance and without a cry, so that Mikolai, who had whirled him round and was now kneeling on his chest, had an [Pg 267] easy time of it. "It's I, Mikolai," he panted. "I'll teach you!" Mikolai had hardly ever given anybody such a thrashing before; it was such a relief to him to get rid of his misery in this way. He flogged the man until his arm was stiff, and then threw him into the ditch at the side of the field and went home satisfied. He whistled as he walked back to the farm. There, now he had given that fellow a good reminder; he would have a few bruises to show. And if he felt inclined to bring an action against him, then let him; he would never repent of what he had done. He felt much brighter now. He looked about for Marianna; how tiresome, she was no doubt sleeping upstairs by now. He went round to the gable and began to whistle, but nobody opened the window, and no eager "Yes, yes!" reached his ear. How tiresome! The woman was sleeping like a badger in his hole. He would have to enjoy the thought of his successful stroke by himself, then, and he pressed his fists against his mouth and hopped about on one leg with joy. When he came round to the front door again he noticed a light gleaming through the shutters in the big room. What, was somebody still awake? Was his father not asleep yet? Perhaps in his drunken condition he had forgotten to put out the lamp. Then it would be smoking the whole night through, as it had done a short time before, when the smelling thing had only gone out for want of paraffin. Did the old fool really want to set fire to the whole concern? How dreadful it would be to have a fire with all that straw in the barn. The man cast an anxious look at the streak of light which found its way through the shutters; it seemed twice as broad as usual. What was the old man up to? He would be doing some mischief [Pg 268] some day, that was certain. Seized with an unaccountable uneasiness, Mikolai groped in the dark passage for the door-handle. "_Psia krew!_" Of course, it was locked on the inside. He knocked; then he called, "Father!" He rattled the handle. "The deuce, why can't you open?" Still no answer, and no bolt was withdrawn. He shook the door with all his strength. "I shall break the door open if you don't unlock it at once." The door creaked and groaned, and Mikolai's loud voice echoed through the house, so that one would have thought it would have awakened the dead--bat there was no sound in the room. Then a fear gripped him; what should he do now? He was still pondering when he heard his stepmother's voice.