And now the weather was better; the rain had stopped, the sky had cleared up a little; flocks of clouds were moving across the sky, and on the earth a chilly wind blew, freezing the ground, and whitening with hoarfrost the black skeletons of the trees. The voices, too, though not loud, were now more distinctly heard. It was at once known in the village that a number of peasant-landowners had assembled and gone in a body to see the Voyt. There was Vinciorek, with Gregory, called the Lame One; they saw Michael Caban, passing along with Franek Bylitsa, cousin to Hanka’s father; and Soho too, and also Valek the Wry-mouthed; likewise Joseph Vahnik, Casimir Sikora—even time-honoured Ploshka. Only Boryna was seen by none; though they said he was there, too. The Voyt was not in; he had that very afternoon driven over to head-quarters on official business; so they all assembled at Klemba’s, followed by multitudes, women and children among them. But they made the door fast and let no one in. Voytek, the son of Klemba, had orders to watch the road and tavern, lest a gendarme should by chance show his face in the village.... Round the cabin, filling the farm-yard, and even the road beyond it, folk came in throngs together, all wondering what decision those elders of theirs would come to. They were taking counsel, and at great length—but with most secret deliberation. Only their hoary heads were visible through the windows, forming a semicircle around the glowing hearth; Klemba stood on one side, holding forth about ... no one knew what: stooping now and then, and smiting at times on the table. Those outside grew every minute more impatient; and at length Kobus and Kozlova, and more than one farm-labourer, began to murmur and talk openly against the men in counsel, saying that they would decide nothing of any good for the people; that they were men who cared only for themselves, and would readily come to terms with the manor, letting everybody else be ruined! Kobus, along with the _Komorniki_ and the poorer people, became so excited that he advised them outright to pay no attention to what the elders would decide, but think of themselves and take some energetic step before their rights had been sold. Matthew then appeared, and proposed that they should go round to the tavern, where they might advise together in freedom—not like dogs barking outside other people’s windows. The idea pleased them, and all went together to the tavern. The Jew had put out the lights, but they made him open the place again. He eyed in terror the crowd that poured in, though they were quiet enough, occupying every bench, table and corner of the big room, talking in groups, and waiting for someone to speak first to the meeting. Plenty were willing; but they all held back, with looks of hesitation. And then Antek sprang forward in their midst, and furiously denounced the manor.