'He wants to set up a shop and deal with the railway people, else the Germans will take away all the business from under our noses.' Slimak reflected. 'No, I don't want a Jew on my land,' he said. 'I shouldn't be the first to be eaten up by you longcurls.' 'You don't want to live with a Jew, but you are not afraid to pray with the Germans,' said the Jew, pale with anger. Slimak was made to feel the profound unpopularity he had incurred in the village. At church on Sundays hardly anyone answered him 'In Eternity', and when he passed a group he would hear loud talk of heresy, and God's judgment which would follow. He therefore ordered a Mass one Sunday, on the advice of his wife, and went to confession with her and Jendrek; but this did not improve matters, for the villagers discussed over their beer in the evening what deadly sin he might have been guilty of to go to confession and pray so fervently. Even old Sobieska rarely appeared and came furtively to ask for her vodka. Once, when her tongue was loosened, she said: 'They say you have turned into a Lutheran...It's true,' she added, 'there is only one merciful God, still, the Germans are a filthy thing!' The Germans now began mysteriously to disappear with their carts at dawn of day, carrying large quantities of provisions with them. Slimak investigated this matter, getting up early himself. Soon he saw a tiny yellow speck in the direction which they had taken. It grew larger towards evening, and he became convinced that it was the approaching railway line. 'The scoundrels!' he said to his wife, 'they've been keeping this secret so as to steal a march on me, but I shall drive over.' 'Well, look sharp!' cried his wife; 'those railway people were to have been our best customers.' He promised to go next day, but overslept himself, and Slimakowa barely succeeded in driving him off the day after. He gathered some information on the way from the peasants. Many of them had volunteered for work, but only a few had been taken on, and those had soon returned, tired out. 'It's dogs' work, not men's,' they told him; 'yet it might be worth your while taking the horses, for carters earn four roubles a day.' 'Four roubles a day!' thought Slimak, laying on to the horses. He drove on smartly and soon came alongside the great mounds of clay on which strangers were at work, huge, strong, bearded men, wheeling large barrows. Slimak could not wonder enough at their strength and industry. 'Certainly, none of our men would do this,' he thought. No one paid any attention to him or spoke to him. At last two Jews caught sight of him and one asked: 'What do you want, gospodarz?' The embarrassed peasant twisted his cap in his hands. 'I came to ask whether the gentlemen wanted any barley or lard?' 'My dear man,' said the Jew, 'we have our regular contractors; a nice mess we should be in, if we had to buy every sack of barley from the peasants!'