“Aye, to the manor lands close to the wood. The roebucks are fond of coming that way to crop the sprouting blades in the sown fields. It was very dark, and I had long to wait. Just at dawn, a buck came by. I was so well hidden that he was only five paces away from me. But I did not shoot. He was as big as an ox, and I knew I could not carry him off. So I spared him; and after the space of a few Paters, some does appeared. I chose the finest, and took aim. What a report there was! I had put in a heavy charge: it kicked so, my shoulder is one bruise still. And the doe fell; but she still kicked, and made such a fearful noise that I was afraid the keeper might hear, and I had to cut her throat.” Vitek was full of enthusiasm. “And—did you leave her in the wood?” “Where I left her, I left her: it’s no business of yours. And if you say a single word about this to anyone ... you’ll see what I shall do to you!” “I won’t, if you forbid me; but may I not tell Yuzka?” “The whole village would know directly. No.—But, here is a five-kopek piece, for you to buy something with.” “Without that, I’d hold my tongue.—But, O dear, dear Kuba! take me with you some day!” “Breakfast!” Yuzka was in front of the cabin, calling to them. “Be easy, Vitek, I shall take you.” “And you’ll let me shoot—once, only once?” he entreated. “Silly one! think you they give gunpowder for nothing?” “But I have money, Kuba, I have. Master gave me two _zloty_ for the last fair, and I was keeping them for the Memorial offering. But....” “Very well; I shall teach you how to shoot,” he whispered, patting the boy’s head, and touched by his appeal. Almost as soon as they had finished breakfast, they went together to church. Kuba limped along as fast as he could; but Vitek lagged a little behind: he was ashamed to have to go barefoot, for he had no boots. “Is it right to go into the vestry without boots?” he queried in a low voice. “You are foolish. Does our Lord consider a man’s boots, not his prayers?” “True; but are not boots more respectful?” he whispered sadly. “Oh, you will get boots one of these days.” “That I shall! Let me but grow up to be a farm-hand, I shall directly go off to Warsaw and get a place in some stable. In the town, they all wear boots, don’t they, Kuba?” “They do.—Can you remember anything about Warsaw, Vitek?” “Of course. I was five when Kozlova brought me here; so I recollect perfectly.... Yes, we went on foot to the station, and there I saw no end of glowing lights ... and houses all one close to another, and as big as churches.” “Nonsense!” cried Kuba, disdainfully. “But I remember quite well. I could not see the roofs, they were so high. Windows, too, to the very ground. Whole walls of windows! And everywhere bells were ringing continually.” “No wonder; there are so many churches there.” “Else whence could the ringing have come?”