“Say for an airing, you little gadabout.—No, we can get all we want at Yankel’s: I shall go there directly.—And, Yuzka!” she called after her; “where are Pete and Vitek?” “Out in the meadows, I dare say. I saw Pete take his violin with him.” “If you find them, send them hither. They must bring round the trough that stands in the outhouse, and place it here in front of the cabin: in the morning, we shall scald and scour it.” Glad to get out of doors, Yuzka ran straight to Nastka, with whom she went to seek old Ambrose. Hanka, however, did not go to the tavern then, her father having crawled round to see her. She gave him something to eat, and had the pleasure of telling him what Roch had said about Antek.—Suddenly Magda burst in, crying: “Something is the matter with Father: come this instant!” Boryna was sitting up, his legs out of bed, and looking round the room. Hanka ran to prevent him from falling. He eyed her well, and then looked fixedly on the blacksmith, who had just run in unexpectedly. “Hanka!” He spoke aloud, distinctly, in a voice that startled her. “Here I am,” she answered, trembling. “How is it out of doors?” It was a strange voice—strange and broken. “Spring is here, and the weather warm,” she faltered. “Are they not up yet? Afield, they should be!” Bewildered, they sought words in vain: Magda burst out crying. “Defend what’s yours, boys! No giving way!” His voice had risen to a shout. Suddenly he stopped, and rocked to and fro so violently in Hanka’s arms that the smith and his wife tried to take her place. But though her arms and back were aching, she held him nevertheless. All three gazed on him, awaiting his next words. “The barley must be sown first.—To the rescue, boys! Rally round me!” he shrieked all at once in an awful voice, and fell stiffly back, while his eyes closed, and something gurgled in his throat. “O Lord! he is dying—dying!” Hanka screamed, and shook him with all her might, unconscious of what she did. Magda put a consecrated taper in his hand, and lit it. “Michael! The priest!—At once!” But ere her husband could go out, Boryna opened his eyes; and the taper fell from his hand and broke. “It has passed.... Look, he seeks something,” Michael whispered, bending over him. But the old man, now quite himself again, pushed him aside unhesitatingly, and called: “Hanka! Send these folk away!” Magda, in tears, fell down before him; but he seemed not to know her. “None of that.... No use.... Send them out,” he repeated obstinately. “Do pray go—into the passage at least; do not vex him,” she said imploringly. “Magda, you go: I will not budge hence,” the blacksmith hissed, guessing that Boryna had something to tell Hanka.