“Aha! Busy ... yes.” He smiled knowingly, threw his capote aside, and pulled off his boots. All remained tongue-tied the while, uncertain how to begin. The smith’s wife cleared her throat and drew her children closer; Hanka, on the threshold, was suckling her little boy, and casting uneasy looks at Antek, who sat by the window thinking what he should say, and shaking all over with emotion. Yuzka alone was calm, peeling potatoes by the fire-place. “Now, then, say what you have to say,” the old man cried sharply, irritated by the silence. “Better you, Antek, should speak first—about that settlement: we shall follow,” the smith’s wife stammered. “The settlement? It is made, and the wedding is to be on Sunday: that I can tell you.” “We know, but we came for another reason.” “What is it?” “You have settled six whole acres!” “I chose to: if I choose, I can settle everything on her, and this instant!” “You may, if all belongs to you,” Antek retorted. “And whose else is it—whose?” “Your children’s. Ours.” “That’s nonsense. Mine the land is, and I can do with it as I please.” “Or not yours, and not to do as you please.” “Will you prevent me—you?” “I shall ... we all shall; and if not, we have the law to protect us.” He could no longer control himself, and was raging. “Ah! you do threaten me with the law, forsooth?—Hold your peace ere I am angered, or you’ll rue it.” “Wrong us ye shall not!” cried Hanka in a loud voice, rising to her feet. “And what is’t she wants—she?—She brought us three acres of sand, and one piece of canvas cloth: and she dares wag her tongue here!” “You have given Antek still less: not even the land, his mother’s dowry; we are as your farm-labourers!” “But in return for your work you get all that three of my acres yield.” “For work that is worth the yield of more than twenty.” “If unfairly treated, go elsewhere and fare better.” Here Antek shouted: “We will not! The land is ours, come down from our grandsires and forefathers.” Old Boryna glared at him, but answered nothing. He seated himself by the fire and, taking up a poker, used it on the brands till the sparks flew on every side. He was flushed with passion; his hair again and again came tumbling into his eyes, phosphorescent like a wildcat’s; but he had some self-control still left. A long pause ensued, and the stillness of the room was broken only by the hurried breaths drawn there. “We have naught against your marrying; marry, if you like.” “And if you have aught, much difference will it make to me!” “Only revoke that settlement!” added Hanka, in tears. “Oh, that peevish mother of dogs! Always chattering like a fool!” And he poked the fire so furiously that the sparks flew all about the room. “Take heed! She is no wench of yours, that you should speak such words to her!” “Why should she prate, then?” “She has a right to speak!” Antek shouted; “she stands up for what is our due.”