'I dare not, your Reverence.' 'Well, then I will drink to you.' He touched the glass with his lips. The peasant took the glass with trembling hands and drank kneeling, swallowing with difficulty. 'Don't you like it?' 'Like it? vodka is nothing compared to this!' Slimak's voice sounded natural again. 'Isn't it just full of spice!' he added, and revived rapidly. 'Now tell me all about it,' began the priest: 'I remember you as a prosperous gospodarz.' 'It would be a long story to tell your Reverence. One of my sons was drowned, the other is in jail; my wife is dead, my horses were stolen, my house burnt down. It all began with the squire's selling the village, and with the railway and the Germans coming here. Then Josel set everyone against me, because I had been selling fowls and other things to the surveyors; even now he is doing his best to...' 'But why does everyone go to Josel for advice?' interrupted the priest. 'To whom is one to go, begging your Reverence's pardon? We peasants are ignorant people. The Jews know about everything, and sometimes they give good advice.' The priest winced. The peasant continued excitedly: 'There were no wages coming in from the manor, and the Germans took the two acres I had rented from the squire.' 'But let me see,' said the priest, 'wasn't it you to whom the squire offered those two acres at a great deal less than they were worth?' 'Certainly it was me!' 'Why didn't you take the offer? I suppose you did not trust him?' 'How can one trust them when one does not know what they are talking among themselves; they jabber like Jews, and when they talked to me they were poking fun at me. Besides, there was some talk of free distribution of land.' 'And you believed that?' 'Why should I not believe it? A man likes to believe what is to his advantage. The Jews knew it wasn't true, but they won't tell.' 'Why didn't you apply for work at the railway?' 'I did, but the Germans kept me out.' 'Why couldn't you have come to me? the chief engineer was living at my house all the time,' said the priest, getting angry. 'I beg your Reverence's pardon; I couldn't have known that, and I shouldn't have dared to apply to your Reverence.' 'Hm! And the Germans annoyed you?' 'Oh dear, oh dear! haven't they been pestering me to sell them my land all along, and when the fire came I gave way....' 'And you sold them the land?' 'God and my dead wife saved me from doing that. She got up from her deathbed and laid a curse upon me if I should sell the land. I would rather die than sell it, but all the same,' he hung his head, 'the Germans will pay me out.' 'I don't think they can do you much harm.' 'If the Germans leave,' continued the peasant, 'I shall be up against old Gryb, and he will do me as much harm as the Germans, or more.'