But only old Klemba stood there in the doorway. Behind him, shaking and stamping the snow off their clothes and boots, came Vinciorek, Gregory “the Lame,” Michael Caban, Franek Bylitsa (Hanka’s uncle), Valenty “the Wry-mouthed,” and Joseph Vahnik! Boryna marvelled much at this deputation, as it seemed to be, but said not a word, except to answer their greetings. He shook hands all round, bade them be seated on the benches he pushed forwards, and offered his snuff-box. They all sat down in a row, and took a pinch, nothing loath; one sneezed, another blew his nose, a third wiped his eyes, the snuff being of first-class strength.... They then looked round them, and some spoke a few words—about the snowy weather, about hard times—while others assented with grunts and nods: all, however, approaching at leisure the object of their visit. Boryna shifted uneasily on his bench, stared at them, and attempted by various means to draw them out and learn what they would have of him. He failed. They sat there in a row, hoary-headed clean-shaven old men, nearly of an age, hale as yet, though bowed down by years and labour; ponderous as moss-grown boulders in the fields, rugged, tough-sinewed, ungainly, but hard-headed and shrewd, they fought shy of speaking before the time, and approached the matter in hand circuitously, as sagacious sheep-dogs do a flock they aim at driving through a gate. At length, however, Klemba cleared his throat, expectorated, and said with a dignified mien: “How long shall we hang back and beat about the bush? We come to know if ye are on our side or not.” “Without you we cannot decide aught.” “For ye are the first man amongst us all.” “And wisdom has been given you by our Lord.” “And though ye have no office, yet are ye the leader of us all.” “Also our common interests are at stake.” Each man had his say, and every one was so complimentary to Boryna that he turned red, held up his hands in deprecation, and exclaimed: “Kind friends, I do not even know as yet what brings you hither!” “Our forest! After Twelfth Night, they intend to cut it down.” “I know they even now saw timber at the mill.” “But that belongs to Jews in Rudka, as we thought ye knew.” “I did not: I have little time to go about and question folk.” “Yet ye were first to make complaint against the Squire?” “Because I thought that he had sold the timber of our clearing.” “Why, whose else? say whose!” Caban interrupted. “That on the land he bought himself; his own.” “Aye, but he also has sold the timber of Vilche Doly, and they are now to cut it down!” “That he can only do if we agree!” “And yet the trees are marked already; they have measured out the land, and will begin to fell the timber after Twelfth Night.” “If ’tis thus”—Boryna paused to reflect—“if so, then we shall enter a complaint before the commissary.” “‘From seed-time to harvest, complainant, thou starvest!’” Caban muttered; and Valenty “the Wry-mouthed” chimed in: