"A wonderful death, and wonderful happenings! Look at this it is just as if Tartars had raided the mansion." "Or evil spirits," added Zabierzovski. "A terrible night!" They commanded the servants hidden under the table to crawl forth and bring some order to the dining-hall. They came out, perfectly sobered from terror, and went to work nimbly. Meanwhile Martsian had returned. He was calmer, but his lips were still trembling from anger. "They will come to their minds!" said he, addressing those present. "But I thank you, gentlemen, for helping me to punish those ruffians. It will not be easier here for them than it was in the days of the dead man! My head upon that point." The Sulgostovskis looked at him quickly, and one said,-- "You have not to thank us more than we you." "How is that?" "Why art thou qualifying to be the only judge here?" asked the other of the twins. Martsian, as if wishing to spring to their eyes, sprang upward on his short bow-legs straightway, and shouted,-- "I have the right, the right!" "What right?" "A better right than yours." "How is that? Hast read the will?" "What is a will to me?" Here he blew on the palm of his hand; "that's what it is,--wind! To whom has he willed it--to his wife? But where is his wife? That is the question--we are next of kin here. We--the Krepetskis, not you." "But we will see about that. God kill thee!" "God kill thee! Clear out!" "Thou goat! Thou nasty cur! Why dost thou tell us to go? Better have a care of thy goat forehead!" "Are ye threatening?" Here Martsian shook his sabre and pushed up to the brothers. They too grasped at their weapons. But at that moment the offended voice of the prelate was heard there behind them,-- "Gracious gentlemen, the dead man is not cold yet." The Sulgostovskis were terribly ashamed, and one of them said,-- "Reverend prelate, we are not to blame; we have our own bread and do not desire that of others, but this serpent is beginning to sting, and wishes to drive people out of this mansion." "What people? Whom?" "Whomever he comes upon. To-day us, whom he has ordered away, to-morrow, perhaps, the orphan bride living under this roof here." "That is untrue! untrue!" cried Martsian. And, winding himself into a ball, he laughed sneeringly, rubbed his hands, bowed down and said with a certain envenomed sincerity,-- "On the contrary, on the contrary! I invite all to the funeral and to the feast following after the interment. I beg most humbly; my father and I beg. And as to Panna Sieninski, she will find at all times a roof, and protection, and care at all times, at all times!" And he went on rubbing his hands very gleefully. CHAPTER XIV