“Why, know ye not? A falling tree-trunk has crushed the man so, that he is not likely ever to be well again.” So they whispered—still gazing after the priest, now almost unseen. Several of the elder dames had joined him to follow in procession, together with a large party of men; and the rest stood uncertain, like a flock of sheep which their dog has headed round. All their resentment had evaporated, the back of the riot was broken, the din ceased. They looked at one another, scratched their heads or mumbled some unconnected words; several were ashamed of themselves, spat on the ground, and slunk off. Part of the crowd thus leaked away like water, creeping through fences and into wayside cabins. Kozlova alone went on ranting in spite of all, and threatening Antek and Yagna; but, seeing himself without adherents, she had a passage of arms with Roch (who had told her certain truths), and then went back to the village. In the end but few remained, watching at the place of the disaster, lest the fire should break out anew. The blacksmith, too, remained in the farm-yard, much vexed with the course of events. He spoke no more to anyone, but prowled about, prying into holes and corners, and more than once driving Lapa away for persistently following him and barking. All this time, Boryna was nowhere to be seen. He was, they said, fast asleep under his bed-clothes; and only Yuzka, with eyes red from crying, peeped out of doors for a moment to disappear immediately. Yagustynka did the farm-yard work alone, as waspish that morning as could possibly be. It was no use speaking to her, and after a few answers that stung like nettles, no one cared to try. Punctually at noon, a clerk and several gendarmes arrived in Lipka. They wrote a great deal, and made much inquiry into the causes of the fire: which made all present take themselves off pretty quickly, fearing to be called as witnesses. No one was even seen about the roads; but this was because the snow, falling ceaselessly and yet moister than before, was melting ere it touched the earth, and covered the whole country with a layer of half-liquid slush. But the folk at home were as lively as bees in a hive; that day had brought them an unexpected respite from their work; few did anything at all, and at some farms the cows were lowing over their empty mangers. In every cabin, people were busily discussing the great event, and often someone would pass from hut to hut: old dames especially, wagging eager tongues. So, from hearth to hearth, news went fluttering round like crows; and at windows and front doors, and elsewhere within the enclosures, many an inquisitive face was seen, watching for Antek to appear, going by in the clutch of the law!