Gradually, as the sledge moved away, she calmed down, her livid face assumed its copper colour, and her eyes became dull. She fell back into her old apathy. 'She's forgotten all about it,' said one of her companions. 'These lunatics are often happier than other people,' answered the friend. Then they walked on in silence. Nothing was heard but the creaking snow under their feet. CHAPTER X The loss of his horses had almost driven Slimak crazy. Beating Maciek and kicking him out had not exhausted his anger. He felt the room oppressive, walked out into the yard and ran up and down with clenched fists and bloodshot eyes, waiting for a chance to vent his temper. He remembered that he ought to feed the cows and went into the stable, where he pushed the animals about, and when one clumsily trod on his foot, he seized a fork and beat her mercilessly. He kicked Burek's body behind the barn. 'You damned dog, if you had not taken bread from strangers, I should still have my horses!' He returned to the room and threw himself on the bench with such violence that he upset the block for wood-chopping. Jendrek laughed, but his father unbuckled his belt and did not stop beating him till the boy crept, bleeding, under the bench. With the belt in his hand Slimak waited for his wife to make a remark. But she remained silent, only holding on to the chimney-piece for support. 'What makes you stagger? Haven't you got over yesterday's vodka?' 'Something's wrong with me,' she answered low. He decided to strap on his belt. 'What's wrong?' 'I can't see, and there's a noise in my ears. Is any one whistling?' 'Don't drink vodka and you'll hear no noises,' he said, spitting, and went out. It surprised him that she had made no remark after the thrashing he had given Jendrek, and having no one to beat, he seized an axe and chopped wood until nightfall, eating nothing all day. Logs and splinters fell round him, he felt as if he were revenging himself on his enemies, and when he left off, stiff and tired, his shirt soaked with perspiration, his anger had gone from him. He was surprised to find no one in the room and peeped into the alcove; Slimakowa was lying on the bed. 'What's the matter' 'I'm not well, but it's nothing.' 'The fire has gone out.' 'Out?' she asked vaguely, raising herself. She got up and lighted the fire with difficulty, her husband watching her. 'You see,' he said presently, 'you got hot yesterday and then you would drink water out of the Jew's pewter pot and unbutton your jacket. You have caught cold.' 'It's nothing,' she said ill-humouredly, pulled herself together and warmed up the supper. Jendrek crept out and took a spoon, but cried instead of eating.