“No one is guilty but the Voyt. Was it she gave him corals? or enticed him to the tavern? or lurked for him in the orchard all night long? How he tempted her, how he forced her on! Oh, I know too well! He may even have drugged her: do I know?” “You plague-spotted protector of hers, be still, or your girdle may come off!” “But she’ll know how you’ve stood up for her ... and reward you well!” “Peradventure with a pair of breeches Matthias wears no more!” They jeered and laughed till they nearly burst their sides. “Since her goodman cannot speak for her, I who can will. Aye, I will, blood of a dog!... Let me but hear another word against her! O you loud-mouthed curs, how silent you’d have been had she been your sister or your wife!” “Now then, hold your peace, you stable-boy!” Staho Ploshka thundered. “What right have you to meddle here? Meddle with your horses’ tails!” “And beware,” Vahnik added, “lest you get more than this rebuke!” “And leave farmers alone, you filthy matted-pate!” was the shout they sent up as they withdrew. “O you scurvy bumpkins!—A stable-boy I am, yes; but never at least did I take a measure of corn in secret to the Jew! Ye know me not!” he called after the retiring group; and they, feeling somehow small and mean, answered nothing, but went home. The weather was strange that evening: windy, but very bright. Long after sundown there yawned huge gulfs of blood-red fire far up in the depths of the sky. There prevailed a feeling of unrest; the gale howled aloud, but so high above that it only tore at the lofty tree-tops. Geese, no one knew why, would fall a-clamouring in the enclosures all together; dogs ran about nervously, even beyond their homes. No one remained in the house or sat on the door-steps; all gathered at some distance from the dwelling, and talked with their neighbours in low voices. Hanka had with her a few friends, who had come to condole, and learn something more about Yagna. But when they came to the subject, she answered them scornfully: “’Tis a shame and a sin, but an affliction too!” “Certainly; and the whole parish will know all to-morrow!” “And will say we are the worst village of all.” “And the shame will fall upon all the Lipka women.” “Because they all are so good that, driven like Yagna, they all would do the same!” Yagustynka said, mocking. “Be silent! ’tis not the time for jeering now!” snapped Hanka, with such stern rebuke that she uttered not another word. Hanka was still half choked with shame; but the anger which at first surged up within her had now passed away. And when her friends had gone home, she looked in at the other side, ostensibly to see to Matthias. Perceiving Yagna lying asleep in her clothes, she bolted the door and undressed her carefully in the dark. “May God have pity on such a fate as hers!” was the thought which came to her a little after, flooding her with immense compassion.