As a beast of burden beneath the yoke, so livest thou, O man! caring only to get through this thy present day, and never thinking of what surrounds thee—what incense-perfumes—and from what most sacred altars—fill the world—nor what hidden prodigies are lurking everywhere! O man! thou seest no more than doth a rock beneath deep waters! O man! who in darkness ploughest the field of life, thou sowest it but with tears and trouble and sorrow! And this thy starlike soul, O man! thou lettest it wallow in the marsh and the quagmire!... The conversation went on, and Roch willingly joined in it, always full of wonder and sorrow and tears, when others wondered and sorrowed and wept.... From time to time, there would be long pauses, in which you might almost hear the throbbing of hearts ready to burst, and you could see how their moist eyes glistened, shining with dewy tears; while exclamations of wonder and longing arose, and their souls knelt down before the Lord, in this His temple of marvels, and sang the great hymn of thanksgiving. This all their hearts were singing, filled with ecstasy, trembling, in the mystic communion of the Ideal; like the earth, when it thrills in spring beneath the sunbeams; like the waters at evening, when the day is calm and quiet, and vibrations and iridescent tints play all over them; or like the young corn in an afternoon of early May, murmuring continuously and gently waving delicate blades and feathery ears in a prayer of thanks. Yagna was in heaven. So deeply did she feel and realize all these things that they stood before her in concrete form and shape, and she was able to cut them out in paper without any difficulty. They handed her some sheets, written over by the children whom Roch was teaching; and while she listened to the legends and stories, she snipped out, now spectres, now kings, or vampires, or dragons, or any other wonderful things, so well cut that they were recognized without fail. So many did she cut out that a whole beam might have been pasted over with her handiwork; and she painted them all with raddle that Antek passed to her. So absorbed was she in her work and the legends she was listening to, that she failed to notice him, as he stood there impatient, trying to draw her attention; nor did the others, who were also deeply interested, remark the signs he made. On a sudden, the dogs outside fell to barking furiously, and howling as if in dread, till one of Klemba’s sons went out to them. He said on his return that he had seen a peasant outside the window, who had run away. No one either paid heed to what he had said or remarked that later, when the dogs had ceased barking, a face passed swiftly outside the window, and vanished. Only one girl saw it, and screamed out, rolling her eyes in terror. “Someone has just gone by—there—there—in the yard!” “Yes, I hear feet scrunching through the snow!” “And there’s a scraping noise along the wall!” “‘Talk of the wolf ... it is sure to appear!’”