'Come back! The Lord be praised! Bartek, my darling! How are you? Go indoors! Franek is at school being teased by that horrid German! The boy is well. He's as dull in the upper storey as you are. Oh, but it was time for you to come back! I didn't know any more which way to turn. I was miserable, I tell you, miserable! This whole poor house is going into ruins. The roof is off the barn. How are you? Oh, Bartek! Bartek! That I should actually see you, after all! What trouble I have had with the hay!--The neighbours helped me, but they did it to help themselves! How are you?--Well? Oh, but I am glad to have you,--glad! The Lord watched over you. Go indoors. By God, it's like Bartek, and not like Bartek! What's the matter with you? Oh dear! Oh dear!' At that instant Magda had become aware of a long scar running along Bartek's face across his left temple and cheek and down to his beard. 'It's nothing.--A Cuirassier did it for me, but I did the same for him. I have been in hospital.' 'Oh Jesu!' 'Why, it's a mere flea-bite.' 'But you are starved to death.' 'Ruhig!' answered Bartek. He was in truth emaciated, begrimed and in rags:--a true conqueror! He swayed too as he stood. 'What's wrong with you? Are you drunk?' 'I--am still weak.' That he was weak, was certain, but he was tipsy also. For one glass of vodka would have been sufficient in his state of exhaustion, and Bartek had drunk something like four at the station. The result was that he had the bearing of the true conqueror. He had not been like this formerly. 'Ruhig!' he repeated. 'We have finished the Krieg. I am a gentleman now, do you understand? Look here!' he pointed to his crosses and medals. 'Do you know who I am? Eh? Links! Rechts! Heu! Stroh! Halt!' At the word, 'halt,' he gave such a shrill shout that the woman recoiled several steps. 'Are you mad?' 'How are you, Magda? When I say to you "how are you" then how are you? Do you know French, stupid? "Musiu, Musiu!" What is "Musiu?" I am a "Musiu," do you understand?' 'Man, what's up with you?' 'What's that to you! Was? "Doné diner," do you understand?' A storm began to gather on Magda's brow. 'What rubbish are you jabbering? What's this,--you don't know Polish? That's all through those wretches. I said how it would be! What have they done to you?' 'Give me something to eat!' 'Be quick indoors.' Every command made an irresistible impression on Bartek; hearing this 'Be quick' he drew himself up, held his hand stiffly to his side, and, having made a half-turn, marched in the direction indicated. He stood still at the threshold, however, and began to look wonderingly at Magda. 'Well, what do you want, Magda? What do...?' 'Quick! March!'