“Yagna!” shouted Yuzka from the yard; “are ye going to help in the potato-field or not?” Yes; she did not mind. She even willingly obeyed an order that took her away from herself and her incertitude: though she was still under the influence of a melancholy which brought tears to her eyes. But she set to work with such goodwill that she had presently distanced all the hired workers; and so she kept on, paying no heed to Yagustynka’s taunts and gibes, nor to the eyes of the other women, that followed her every movement with the air of surly dogs ready to bite. At times, indeed, she would straighten herself for a moment, as does a pear-tree after bending to the blast, showering its scented blossoms on every side, and (perhaps) remembering the past storms of winter. She thought of Antek sometimes, but more often of Yanek’s glowing eyes, and of Yanek’s cherry lips; and the sound of Yanek’s voice echoed in her ears. And she clung with all the force of her will to those yearnings of her memories: they made such sunshine in her heart! For her nature was that of the wild hop, that for its growth and blossoming and life, must needs twine round some other plant; else, left without support, it falls and perishes. The _Komorniki_, having flung whispers about to their hearts’ content, were now taking kerchiefs and aprons off their heads, because it had grown warm; they talked louder among themselves, and stretched their limbs, yawning and longing for the noonday rest. “Kozlova, ye are highest: pray look whether no one is coming along the poplar road.” She stood on tiptoe, but answered: “No one in sight!” “They cannot so soon be here; the way is long: they will come at dusk.” “Besides,” Yagustynka added, after her bitter fashion, “there are five taverns by the way!” “Poor things! what do they care for taverns?” “They have had so much to bear all this time!” “Oh, indeed! they have had to bear warm beds and plenty to eat!” “Of fare no better than nettles and chaff!” “Also, freedom with a potato is better than the very best jail!” Gregory’s wife said. “A strange thing,” Yagustynka mused, “is that same freedom, that we relish so: freedom to starve without paying a fine, nor being taken by the gendarmes.” “Very true, my dear; but captivity is captivity all the same.” “And a dish of pease and bacon is not a broth made of aspen pegs!” Yagustynka replied, mimicking her voice so that they all burst out laughing. She followed up her success by abusing the miller, who “lent rotten flour to borrowers and gave short weight when paid in cash”; and then, in concert with Kozlova, set to running down everybody in Lipka, his Reverence not excepted. Gregory’s wife tried to stand up for some: which made Kozlova cry: “Ye would fain defend even church-robbers!” “For we all have much need of being defended,” she answered gently. “Especially Gregory, when ye lift your hand-mangle against him!”