How now? He had been waiting, _he!_ and they had held their council, and left him out of it! That he would not pass over.—A nobody in their eyes, he would show he was somebody in the village.... It was the miller’s doing: he had made a fortune by wronging the people, and was now above everyone. That cheat! of whom he knew enough to send the fellow to prison!... And the Voyt, forsooth! one fit rather to feed cattle than command his betters—a vile drunkard, whose office, if they only elected him, Ambrose might take, and fill it as well as he!... The blacksmith too, his pestilential son-in-law! Let the brute but come again to Boryna’s cabin!... And then the Squire—that wolf, always prowling and sniffing round to snatch what he could from the people! A noble, dwelling on the peasants’ lands, selling the peasants’ forests, living but by the peasants’ sufferance; and he durst come there to plot against them! Could not the wretch understand that a flail would strike as hard on a noble’s back as on anyone else’s?—However, he let none of these thoughts escape him in words. They pained him exceedingly, they tortured him; but that was his business and no one else’s. And, remembering presently that such silent brooding in the presence of a guest was unseemly, he rose and said: “Ye bring strange news; but if the Squire be resolved and will not change his mind, I see no means of forcing him.” “True; yet if some honourable man were to set before him the harm the people would suffer thereby, he might decide otherwise.” “I,” Boryna exclaimed tartly, “will by no means intercede!” “But consider: there are a score of _Komorniki_ here, all eager for work to do. Ye know them, and know how severe this winter is. Some have their stock of potatoes frozen, and are out of work. Ere spring comes, the misery among them will be frightful. Even now, many families have only once a day warm food to eat. They all reckoned that, when the Squire had his trees in Vilche Doly felled, there would be work enough for everyone. And now it is said that he has vowed he would not take one man from Lipka, being angered because they brought a complaint against him to the commissioner.” “That I signed myself; and I will stand by it. He shall not fell one sapling without our consent.” “If so, then he will perchance not fell any trees.” “None, at least, on our land.” “But,” Roch faltered, “what will become of those poor men?” “I cannot help their fate, nor give up our rights that they may work for him. I may stand up to defend others from wrong; but when I am wronged, who will be on my side? My dog, perhaps?” “Then I see ye are not a friend of the manor.” “A friend of myself—and of justice. Of naught besides. And I have other matters to think upon. If Voytek or Bartek has no food to eat—that is the priest’s affair, not mine! With the best will, I cannot alone provide for all.” “But help to provide ... and help not a little,” Roch replied, sadly.