'Why shouldn't they? What do they care about your loss if they can gain?' 'Well...well,' muttered the peasant sadly. 'I,' said Josel, 'might perhaps be able to arrange the affair for you, but what should I gain by it? You have never been well disposed towards me, and you have already done me harm.' 'So you won't arrange it?' 'I might, but on my own terms.' 'What are they?' 'First of all you will give me back the fifty roubles. Secondly, you will build a cottage on your land for my brother-in-law.' 'What for?' 'He will keep horses and drive people to and from the station.' 'And what am I to do with my horses?' 'You have your land.' The gospodarz got up. 'Aren't you going to give me any tea?' 'I haven't any in the house.' 'Very well; I won't pay you fifty roubles, and I won't build a cottage for your brother-in-law.' 'Do as you please.' Slimak left the inn, banging the door. Josel turned his pointed nose and beard in his direction and smiled. In the darkness Slimak collided with a labourer from the manor who carried a sack of corn on his back; presently he saw one of the servant girls hiding a goose under her sheepskin. When she recognized him she ran behind the fence. But Josel continued to smile. He smiled, when he paid the labourer a rouble for the corn, including the sack; he smiled, when the girl handed over the goose and got a bottle of sour beer in return; he smiled, when he listened to the gospodarze discussing the purchase of the land, and he smiled when he paid old Gryb two roubles per cent., and took two roubles from young Gryb for every ten he lent him. His smile no more came off his face than his dirty jersey came off his back. The fire was out and the children were asleep when Slimak returned home. 'Well?' asked his wife, while he was undressing in the dark. 'This is a trick of Josel's. He drives the others like a team of oxen.' 'They won't let you in?' 'They won't, but I shall go to the squire about the field.' 'When are you going?' 'To-morrow, else it may be too late.' To-morrow came; the day after came and went; a week passed, but Slimak had not yet done anything. One day he said he must thresh for a corn dealer, the other day that he had a pain inside. As a matter of fact, he neither threshed nor had a pain inside; but something held him back which peasants call being afraid, gentlemen slackness, and scholars inertia. He ate little, wandered round aimlessly, and often stood still in the snow-covered field by the river, struggling with himself. Reason told him that he ought to go to the manor and settle the matter, but another power held him fast and whispered: 'Don't hurry, wait another day, it will all come right somehow.' 'Josef, why don't you go to the squire?' his wife asked day after day. One evening old Sobieska turned up again. She was suffering from rheumatism, and required treatment with a 'thimbleful' of vodka which loosened her tongue.