“Tell no one this thing I confide to you.” “Am I such a tale-bearer and everlasting gossip?” “Well, well, I only caution you.—Now give good heed. The old man has had a glimmer already: his wits may quite come back to him any day.” “God grant it be soon!” His glance lingered over her. At length, pulling at his moustache, he left her to herself and went out, she following him the while with a contemptuous look. “A Judas, a traitor, and a thief!” Exploding with hate, she took a few steps after him.—It was not for the first time that he had flourished before her eyes the awful possibility of Siberia’s mines and Antek working in them, fettered to a wheelbarrow! Not that she believed implicitly all he said; she knew that he spoke out of spite and to make her afraid, so as to get the most he could out of her by bullying. Nevertheless, she was in great dread, and had carefully sought to be informed what Antek’s punishment might be: she had no hope that he would be acquitted. True, he had acted in defence of his father; but there must be some punishment for the death of the forester. There must! Such was the opinion of all the more intelligent folk. She had been to consult a lawyer in the town, with a letter from his Reverence to introduce her. He had explained that the penalty might be either very heavy or very light; that patience and money spent without grudging were absolutely requisite here. But she was most terrified by the village people, who shared the blacksmith’s view of things. The words he had now spoken had therefore oppressed her most cruelly. She went on with her work, but felt almost unable to stand; and conversation was impossible. Moreover, when the smith had gone away, his wife came to tend the sick man, drive away the flies (there were none!), and certainly spy over all she did. Magda, however, was soon tired of the task, and offered to help her in the work. But Hanka replied: “Do not trouble, we can do all by ourselves: have you not work enough in your house?” Her tone was so decided that Magda gave up the attempt, and only tried at times to join timidly in the talk, being by nature a shy and reticent woman. But that same evening, who should make her appearance once more but Yagna, in her mother’s company! They greeted her as if on excellent terms, and in so friendly and flattering a way that Hanka, touched by their kindness, answered them in like manner, sparing neither pleasant speeches nor vodka, though she kept on the watch nevertheless. But Dominikova put the glass away from her. “What! in the Holy Week? How could I drink vodka at such a time?” Hanka maintained that it was no sin to drink even then, on such an occasion and in one’s own house. “Ah!” groaned Dominikova, “one is always but too ready to find an excuse to let oneself go, and enjoy pleasure!” “Mistress, drink to me,” Ambrose exclaimed; “I have not an organist’s scruples.”