'I won't mince matters, Slimak. You dealt with those railway people without consulting me.' 'Look at what I have earned by my trading,' said Slimak, pointing to his burnt homestead. 'Well, God has punished you heavily, and that is why I say: I am to blame. But when you came to church and your wife--God rest her eternally--bought herself a silk kerchief, you ought to have treated me to at least a pint of vodka, instead of speaking impertinently to me.' 'It's true, I boasted too early.' 'And then you made friends with the Germans and prayed with them.' 'I only took off my cap. Their God is the same as ours.' Gryb shook his clenched fist in his face. 'What! their God is the same as ours? I tell you, he must be a different God, or why should they jabber to him in German? But never mind,' he changed his tone, 'all that's past and gone. You deserve well of us, because you did not let the Germans have your land. Hamer has already offered me his farm for midsummer.' 'Is that so?' 'Of course it is so. The scoundrels threatened to drive us all away, and they have smashed themselves against a small gospodarz of ten acres. You deserve God's blessing and our friendship for that. God rest your dead wife eternally! Many a time has she set you against me! I'll bear her no grudge on that account, however. And here, you see, all of us in the village are sending you some victuals.' Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Grochowski. 'I wouldn't believe Jonah, when he came to tell me all this,' he said, 'and you here, Gryb, too? Where is the defunct?' They approached to the stable and knelt down in the snow. Only the murmuring of their prayers and Slimak's sobs were audible for a while. Then the men got up and praised the dead woman's virtues. 'I am bringing you a bird,' then said Grochowski, turning to Gryb; 'he is slightly wounded.' 'What do you mean?' 'It's your Jasiek. He attempted to steal my horses last night, and I treated him to a little lead.' 'Where is he?' 'In the sledge outside.' Gryb ran off at a heavy trot. Blows and cries were heard, then the old man reappeared, dragging his son by the hair. The strong young fellow was crying like a child. He looked dishevelled and his clothes were torn; a bloodstained cloth was tied round his hand. 'Did you steal the Soltys' horses?' shouted his father. 'How should I not have stolen them? I did steal them!' 'Not quite,' said Grochowski, 'but he did steal Slimak's.' 'What?' cried Gryb, and began to lay on to his son again. 'I did, father. Leave off!' wailed Jasiek. 'My God, how did this come about?' asked the old man. 'That's simple enough,' sneered Grochowski, 'he found others as bad as himself, and they robbed the whole neighbourhood, till I winged him.' 'What do you propose to do now?' asked old Gryb between his blows. 'I'll mend my ways.'...'I'll marry Orzchewski's daughter,' wailed Jasiek.