'Here is a rouble for you; ask your master if he will see me, and I will double it.' The footman shook his head. 'The master is sure to refuse.' 'Tell him, it is Pan Hirschgold, on urgent business from my lady's father. Here is another rouble, so that you do not forget the name.' Mateus quickly disappeared, but did not quickly return. The music stopped, yet he did not return; a polka followed, yet he did not return. At last he appeared: 'The master asks you to come to the bailiff's office.' He took Pan Hirschgold into a room where several camp-beds had been made up for the guests. The Jew took off his expensive fur, sat down in an armchair by the fire and meditated. The polka had been finished, and a vigorous mazurka began. The tumult and stamping increased from time to time; commands rang out, and were followed by a noise which shook the house from top to bottom. The Jew listened indifferently, and waited without impatience. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the passage; the door was opened impetuously, and the squire entered. He was dressed as a Crakovian peasant in a red coat covered with jingling ornaments, wide, pink-and-white-striped breeches, a red cap with a peacock's feather, and iron-shod shoes. 'How are you, Pan Hirschgold?' he cried good-humouredly, 'what is this urgent message from my father-in-law?' 'Read it, sir.' 'What, now? I'm dancing a mazurka.' 'And I am building a railway.' The squire bit his lip, and quickly ran his eye over the letter. The noise of the dancers increased. 'You want to buy my estate?' 'Yes, and at once, sir.' 'But you see that I am giving a dance.' 'The colonists are waiting to come in, sir. If you cannot settle with me before midnight, I shall settle with your neighbour. He gains, and you lose.' The squire was becoming feverish. 'My father-in-law recommends you highly...all the same,...on the spur of the moment....' 'You need only write a word or two.' The squire dashed his red cap down on the table. 'Really, Pan Hirschgold, this is unbearable!' 'It's not my fault; I should like to oblige you, but business is pressing.' There was another hubbub in the passage, and the Uhlan burst into the room, 'For heaven's sake, what are you doing, Wladek?' 'Urgent business.' 'But your lady is waiting for you!' 'Do arrange for some one to take my place; I tell you, it's urgent.' 'I don't know how the lady will take it!' cried the retreating Uhlan. The powerful bass voice of the leader of the mazurka rang out: 'Ladies' ronde!' 'How much will you give me?' hastily began the squire. 'Rather an original situation!' he unexpectedly added, with humour. 'Seventy-five roubles an acre. This is my highest offer. To-morrow I should only give sixty-seven.' 'En avant!' from the ball-room. 'Never!' cried the squire, 'I should prefer to sell to the peasants.' 'And get fifty, or at the outside sixty.' 'Or go on managing the estate myself.' 'You are doing that now...what is the result?'