'What do you mean?' said the squire irritably, 'it's excellent soil....' 'I know all about the property,' interrupted the Jew, 'from the bailiff who left at New Year.' The squire became angry. 'I can sell to the colonists myself.' 'They may give sixty-seven, but meanwhile my lady is dying of boredom.' 'Chaine to the left!' The squire became desperate. 'God, what am I to do?' 'Sign the agreement. Your father-in-law advises you to do so, and tells you that I shall pay the highest price.' 'Partagez!' Again the Uhlan violently burst into the room. 'Wladek, you really must come; the Count is mortally offended, and says he will take his fiancee away.' 'Oh, confound it! Pan Hirschgold, write the agreement at once, I will be back directly.' Unmindful of the gaiety of the dance, the Jew calmly took an inkpot, pen, and paper out of his bag, wrote a dozen lines, and sat down, waiting for the noise to subside. A quarter of an hour later the squire returned in the best of spirits. 'Ready?' he asked cheerfully. 'Ready.' The squire read the paper, signed, and said with a smile: 'What, do you think is the value of this agreement?' 'Perhaps the legal value is not great, but it has some value for your father-in-law, and he...well, he is a rich man!' He blew on the signature, folded up the paper, and asked with a shade of irony: 'Well, and the Count?' 'Oh, he is pacified.' 'He will want more pacifying presently, when his creditors become annoying. I wish you a pleasant night, sir.' No sooner had the squire left the room, than Mateus, the footman, appeared, as if the ground had produced him. He helped the Jew into his coat. 'Did you buy the estate, sir?' 'Why shouldn't I? It's not the first, nor will it be the last.' He gave the footman three roubles. Mateus bowed to the ground and offered to call his sledge. 'Oh no, thank you,' said the Jew, 'I have left my own sledge in Warsaw, and I am not anxious to parade this wretched conveyance.' Nevertheless, Mateus attended him deferentially into the yard. In the ballroom polkas, valses, and mazurkas followed each other endlessly until the pale dawn appeared, and the cottage fires were lit. Slimak rose with the winter sun, and whispering a prayer, walked out of the gate. He looked at the sky, then towards the manor-house, wondering how long the merrymaking was going to last. The sky was blue, the first sun rays were bathing the snow in rose colour, and the clouds in purple. Slimak drew a deep breath, and felt that it was better to be out in the fresh air than indoors, dancing. 'Making themselves tired without need,' he thought, 'when they might be sleeping to their hearts' content!' Then he resumed his prayer. His attention was attracted by voices, and he saw two men in navy blue overcoats. When they caught sight of him, one asked at once: 'That is your hill, gospodarz, isn't it?' Slimak looked at them in surprise.