"Frost that is frost," said Mashko. "Our fingers will freeze to the triggers. And the delight of removing one's furs!" "Then be reconciled; make no delay. My dear man, tell Kresovski to begin the work straightway." Here Mashko wiped his damp eye-glass, and added, "Before we reach the place, the sun will be high, and there will be a great glitter from the snow." "Finish quickly, then," answered Pan Stanislav. "Since Kresovski is in time, there will be no waiting for the others; they are used to early rising." "Dost know what makes me anxious at this moment?" asked Mashko. "This, that there is in the world one factor with which no one reckons in his plans and actions, and through which everything may be shattered, involved, and ruined,--human stupidity. Imagine me with ten times the mind that I have, and unoccupied with the interests of Pan Mashko. Imagine me, for example, some great statesman, some Bismark or Cavour, who needs to gain property to carry out his plans, and who calculates every step, every word,--what then? A beast like this comes along, stupid beyond human reckoning, and carries all away on his horns. That is something fabulous! Whether this fellow will shoot me or not, is the least account now; but the brute has spoiled my life-work." "Who can calculate such a thing?" said Pan Stanislav. "It is as if a roof were to fall on thy head." "For that very reason rage seizes me." "But as to his shooting thee, don't think of that." Mashko recovered, wiped his glass again, and began,--