Antek and Matthew alone remained in their places, sitting side by side, like good friends, and talking in low voices of many a thing. At times one or another of the men would join them, and say a few words. Staho Ploshka came; so did Balcerek, the Voyt’s brother, and all those foremost young men in the place who had been bridesmen at Yagna’s wedding. They felt at first embarrassed, uncertain whether Antek would not receive them with some sarcastic speech. But he shook hands with all, with friendly looks beaming in his eyes; and they presently came round him, listened to all he said, and were again as friendly as they had been of old, when he was foremost among them all. Yet, remembering that only the day before these very men would have slunk from his way if they had seen him at a distance, he could not repress a bitter smile at times. “We never see you now! The tavern knows you no more,” said Ploshka. “At work from dawn till night, when can I find time?” Then they went on to discuss other village topics—their fathers, the lasses, the hard winter weather. Antek spoke little, glancing at the door whenever it opened, in the hope of seeing Yagna coming in. But when Balcerek told them of the meeting held at Klemba’s concerning the forest, he roused himself and inquired what they had decided. “Ah, what indeed? They whined and complained and lamented ... and decided at last that they ought not to allow it to be felled!” “Men of straw!” cried Ploshka. “What can be expected of them? They meet, drink vodka, groan, sigh ... and the outcome of their meeting is as last year’s snow. The Squire may safely cut down every tree in the forest.” “That,” Matthew put in, curtly, “cannot be allowed.” “Who is to prevent him?” they all asked. “Who? Why, you!” “But,” said Ploshka, “we are not free to act. Once I spoke—father silenced me. The business was not mine, but theirs, the husbandmen’s. I was to let it alone, and blow my own nose. And really, they have the right to speak so. All is in their hands: we have no more say in the matter than the farm-servants.” “And that’s unjust.” “The younger generation ought to have a share in the land and the management.” “And our elders to retire on an allowance.” “I,” Ploshka exclaimed, “have served in the army, my prime is passing, and yet my father refuses me what is my own!” “It is time we all had what’s ours.” “All here are wronged.” “Antek most of all.” “Let us set matters to rights in Lipka!” said one, in a hoarse voice. This was Simon, Yagna’s brother, who had but just come, and was standing behind the others. They eyed him with astonishment, as he pushed forward and spoke hotly of the wrongs he had to suffer. But as he met the young fellows’ eyes, he blushed very red, unaccustomed as he was to speak in the presence of many, and also standing as yet somewhat in awe of his mother.