"I am saying what is obvious to my eyes. Look yourself; can't you see the sun is going down behind the hill, and we are still in the same place? It is nothing at all, so don't worry. I know of a clearing in the wood quite near here. We will go there, and we shall be just as though we were at home. The place is sheltered and the mares can graze. You'll sleep in the carriage, and I shall mount guard all night. The night soon passes, we must spend it as best we can, but I will remind my old woman all the rest of her days of this misfortune, for it is her fault that things have gone so with me." "Well, do what you think best, Mosh Nichifor; it's sure to be right." "Come, young lady, don't take it too much to heart, for we shall be quite all right." And at once old Nichifor unharnessed the mares and, turning the carriage, he drew it as well as he could, till he reached the clearing. "Mistress Malca, it is like a paradise straight from God here; where one lives for ever, one never dies! But you are not accustomed to the beauty of the world. Let us walk a little bit while we can still see, for we must collect sticks to keep enough fire going all night to ward off the mosquitoes and gnats in the world." Poor Malca saw it was all one now. She began to walk about and collect sticks. "Lord! you look pretty, young lady. It seems as though you are one of us. Didn't your father once keep an inn in the village somewhere?" "For a long time he kept the inn at Bodesti." "And I was wondering how you came to speak Moldavian so well and why you looked like one of our women. I cannot believe you were really afraid of the wolf. Well, well, what do you think of this clearing? Would you like to die without knowing the beauty of the world? Do you hear the nightingales, how charming they are? Do you hear the turtle-doves calling to each other?" "Mosh Nichifor, won't something happen to us this evening? What will Itzic say?" "Itzic? Itzic will think himself a lucky man when he sees you at home again." "Do you think Itzic knows the world? Or what sort of accidents could happen on the road?" "He only knows how to walk about his hearth or by the oven like my worn-out old woman at home. Let me see whether you know how to make a fire." Malca arranged the sticks; old Nichifor drew out the tinder box and soon had a flame. Then old Nichifor said: "Do you see, Mistress Malca, how beautifully the wood burns?" "I see, Mosh Nichifor, but my heart is throbbing with fear." "Ugh! you will excuse me, but you seem to belong to the Itzic breed. Pluck up a little courage! If you are so timid, get into the carriage, and go to sleep: the night is short, daylight soon comes." Malca, encouraged by old Nichifor, got into the carriage and lay down; old Nichifor lighted his pipe, spread out his sheepskin cloak and stretched himself by the side of the fire and puffed away at his pipe, and was just going off to sleep when a spark flew out on to his nose!