She poured out a large bowl of peeled barley soup and put it on the table, and a small one for Maciek. 'Eat in God's name, and if you want anything, say so.' 'But are not you going to sit down?' 'I always eat last with the children. Maciek, you may take your bowl.' Maciek, grinning, took his portion and sat down on a bench opposite the alcove, so that he could see the Soltys and listen to human intercourse, for which he was longing. He looked contentedly from behind his steaming bowl at the table; the smoking lamp seemed to him the most brilliant illumination, and the wooden chairs the height of comfort. The sight of the Soltys, who was lolling back, filled him with reverence. Was it not he who had driven him to the recruiting-office when it was the time for the drawing of lots? who had ordered him to be taken to the hospital and told him he would come out completely cured? who collected the taxes and carried the largest banner at the processions and intoned 'Let us praise the Holy Virgin'? And now he, Maciek Owczarz, was sitting under one roof with this same Grochowski. How comfortable he made himself! Maciek tried to lean back in the same fashion, but the scandalized wall pushed him forward, reminding him that he was not the Soltys. So although his back ached, he bent still lower and hid his feet in their torn boots under the bench. Why should he be comfortable? It was enough if the master and the Soltys were. He ate his soup and listened with both ears. 'What makes you take the cow to Gryb?' asked the gospodyni. 'Because he wants to buy her.' 'We might buy her ourselves.' 'Yes, that might be so,' put in Slimak; 'the girl is here, the cow should be here too.' 'That's right, isn't it, Maciek?' asked the woman. 'Oho, ho!' laughed Maciek, till the soup ran out of his spoon. 'What's true is true,' said Grochowski; 'even Gryb ought to understand that the cow ought to be where the girl is.' 'Then sell her to us,' Slimak said quickly. Grochowski dropped his spoon on the table and his head on his chest. He reflected for a while, then he said in a tone of resignation: 'There's no help for it; as you are quite, decided I must sell you the cow.' 'But you'll take off something for us, won't you?' hastily added the woman in an ingratiating tone. The Soltys reflected once more. 'You see, it's like this; if it were my cow I would come down. But she belongs to a poor orphan. How could I harm her? Give me thirty-five paper roubles and a silver rouble and the cow will be yours.' 'That's too much,' sighed Slimak. 'But she is worth it!' said the Soltys. 'Still, money sits in the chest and doesn't eat.' 'Neither will it give milk.' 'I should have to rent the field.' 'That will be cheaper than buying fodder.' A long silence ensued, then Slimak said: 'Well, neighbour, say your last word.' 'I tell you, thirty-five paper roubles and a silver rouble. Gryb will be angry, but I'll do this for you.'