They saw the men coming; for they started up, looking in the direction of the new-comers, shading their eyes, and bawling out in their own speech. But one of them, an old man, said a few words, and they sat down quietly to drink again. The flute-player played his sweetest strain; high above their heads the larks sang; while from the corn, the rapid and incessant shrilling of the crickets dinned yet louder in the ear, and the piping of the quails was heard from time to time. The ground, baked by the sun, sounded hard beneath the peasants’ feet, and the stones rang under their hobnailed boots as they drew near: the Germans remained motionless, as though they had not heard anything, but sat enjoying their beer and the fragrance of the evening air. The men, coming in with slow ponderous tread, were close to them now, grasping their sticks tight and striving to breathe easily; but their hearts were throbbing, a hot thrill ran down their backs, and their throats went very dry. Nevertheless, they drew themselves up, and glared boldly at the Germans. “Praised be ...,” said Roch in German, coming to a halt, while the whole company drew up in a crescent behind him. The Germans replied in chorus, but without moving from their places. The grey-bearded old man alone rose and gazed around him, turning somewhat paler. “We,” Roch began to say, “have come to see you on a certain matter.” “Then sit ye down. I see that ye are husbandmen of Lipka: let us talk together in neighbourly wise—Johann! Fritz! bring settles for our neighbours.” “Many thanks, but our business will be soon over: we may as well stand.” “Soon over?” he cried in Polish. “Can that be, when the whole village has come?” “That is but because the matter interests all equally.” “Also,” Gregory added meaningly, “we have left thrice as many at home.” “Well, we are glad to see you.—And, since ye have been the first to pay a visit, perchance ye will taste some beer with us.” “How generous!” cried several voices. “’Twas not for beer we came!” Roch hushed them with a glance. The old German said dryly: “We are listening.” A stillness ensued, in which quick short breathing was heard. The men of Lipka drew closer together, trembling with excitement; the Germans rose like one man and faced them in serried array, exchanging fierce looks with the peasants, and muttering low, and twirling the strands of their beards. The women looked on, terrified; the children ran to hide in the passages; close at the wall, a few tan-coloured dogs began to snarl: while, for the space of one “Hail Mary” at least, the men stood facing one another in profound silence, like a troop of rams, with fiery eyes rolling, backs tense, heads lowered, and ready at any moment to charge one at the other. Then Roch broke the silence, thus speaking in Polish, in clear ringing tones: “We come in the name of the whole village to request you—and in friendly wise—not to complete the purchase of Podlesie.”