Here they dropped the subject, which was a matter too burning to please anyone; but not before old Bylica had, in stammering and hesitating tones, had his say about it: “I know that generation of the Squires of Vola, I know them well: they will steal a march upon you somehow.” “Let them try,” said Klemba. “We are not little children. They shall not succeed.” And no more was said. Then they spoke of Magda, and how the organist had expelled her. Here again, Klemba gave his decision: “Aye, the deed was not very charitable. But then one cannot force them to set up an infirmary in their home for Magda, who is neither kith nor kin to them.” The talk then became desultory, and the guests left them somewhat late. As he went, Klemba, after his short-spoken and simple fashion, told them, “if they lacked of aught, just to let him know, and he would behave as a neighbour should do.” And now Antek and his wife were alone. Hanka hesitated a long time; but at last, after many timorous catchings of the breath, she asked him if he had found any work. “No. I was at more than one manor, and looked about me there, and among the folk too; but I found nothing.” This he said with a low voice and eyes on the ground; for though he had indeed wandered about, he had done nothing more, and made no attempt to get work. They went to bed. The children were asleep by this time; they lay at the foot of the bed for the sake of greater warmth. Darkness reigned, save for the moonbeams that darted through the sparkling frozen panes and threw a luminous band obliquely athwart the room; but the two could not sleep. Hanka tossed from side to side, considering whether she had better tell him about the sawmill now, or wait till the morrow. “Yes, I went seeking work. But even had I found something, I would not have left the village. To go astray about the world like a masterless dog is not to my liking.” So he whispered, after a protracted silence. “Why, that is just what I too was thinking—just the very same as you!” she said joyfully. “Why go away and seek for bread, when we can get quite good work here at home? The miller assured me he had something for you to do at the sawmill, and that you might begin to-morrow. You would get two _zloty_ fifteen _groschen_!” “What?” he snarled. “Did you go a-begging to him?” “No, no,” she explained in much fear. “I only went to pay what I owed him; and he told me himself he intended to send for you.” Antek did not answer. The two lay motionless and speechless side by side; but sleep fled from their eyes. They were thinking, thinking, down in the mysterious depths of their minds; sometimes breathing a sigh, or at others letting their souls melt away in the dull dead stillness. Outside, far, far and faint on the country-side, they heard dogs baying, and cocks flapping their wings, and crowing at midnight, and the muffled murmur of the wind soughing overhead. “Do you sleep?” She crept a little closer to him.