The smith’s feet were shuffling on the floor with excitement, and his hands closing on his capote convulsively, so strong a craving he felt to clutch her by the throat. But he still mastered himself: he was not alone. She had no longer any fear at all: wielding the knife she used to cut the strips of flesh, she looked on the man with quiet scorn. After a time he sat down, lit a cigarette, and gazed about the room with red-rimmed eyes, revolving something in his mind. Presently he got up, and spoke to her calmly. “Come round to the other side of the hut; we may yet find something to agree upon.” Wiping her hands, she went out of the room, but left the door ajar. “I wish not only not to go to law, but not even to quarrel,” he began, puffing at his cigarette. “Because it will not serve,” she retorted. “Did Father-in-law say aught to you yesternight?” The smith was by now quite friendly and smiling. “Oh, no; he lay as still as he lies now.” Full of suspicion, she was on her guard to divulge nothing. “That pig is but a small matter; let us trouble no longer about it. Cut it up ... eat it up by yourselves, just as you please: no very great loss for me.—One often says things of which one repents afterwards.—Pray forget what I said.—I want to speak of something more important. You ought to know that they talk in the village of cash—large sums—concealed within this hut....” He paused and fixed his piercing eyes upon her face. “Now ’twere well worth while to seek for it, lest, should he die (which God forbid!), it might be mislaid, or fall into some stranger’s hand.” “But will he say where he has hidden it?” “To you he might, would you but draw him out with cunning words.” “Well, I will do my best; but he must first come to his wits again.” “And if ye keep it secret, and we find the money, then we might share and share alike. Nay, if the sum were large enough, a part might serve to set Antek free. Let no one else know of it: why should any know? Yagna’s deed of gift makes her quite rich enough; we might even go to law, and have it annulled.—As to Gregory, think how much he has received during his service in the army!” He approached her more closely. “You are right ... quite, quite right,” she stammered, struggling hard to give him no inkling of the secret she knew. “I think he must have concealed it somewhere about the cabin; what think ye?” “How should I know? He never spoke a word to me about that.” “But he said something yesternight ... something about corn, I think?” the smith suggested. “Aye. He said it was to be sown.” “About barrels too, did he not?” he persisted, looking her intently in the face. “Of course. The seed-corn that’s in the barrels,” she made answer, apparently not making out to what those questions were tending. He cursed silently, with bitter disappointment. And yet he felt more and more that she must be privy to the secret. Her face was so stiffly set, her eyes so carefully deprived of expression.