“They must,” he said, “have wandered out some distance.” No one could think where the dogs had gone. After some time, however, Yuzka heard a faint whining sound, that seemed to be somewhere in the yard. Finding nothing there, she went into the orchard, fancying that Vitek was punishing some dog that had strayed on to the premises. To her surprise, no one was in sight; the place was now silent, the whining had ceased. But, going back, she stumbled over Burek’s body. It lay dead close to the cabin, its head beaten in! Her cries at once brought the whole household to the place. “Burek has been killed—by thieves, I doubt not!” “Surely and indeed, ’tis so!” Yagustynka screamed, seeing a lot of earth dug out, and a large pit yawning beneath the foundations. “They have dug through, even to Father’s store-room!” “Why, a horse might have been dragged through so large a hole!” “And the pit is sprinkled all about with grains of corn!” “O Lord! peradventure the robbers are still in there!” Yuzka cried. They rushed into Boryna’s dwelling. Yagna had gone out; the old man lay like a log; but in the store-room that was usually dark, there now was light from the hole which had been dug, and everything within was plainly visible, strewn about in the greatest disorder. The corn had been poured out over the floor pell-mell with articles of clothing torn down from the poles they had been stretched on; and among these, pieces of wool, unspun or spun into many a yarn and hank, lay twisted and torn and tangled.—But what had been stolen? No one could tell as yet. Hanka nevertheless was sure this was the blacksmith’s doing, and reflected with a hot flush that, had she waited but one day more, he would have found and taken the money. She bent forward over the pit to hide from all present her feelings of satisfaction. “Is naught missing in the byre?” she asked, feigning uneasiness. By good luck, all was right there. “The door,” Pete observed, “has been properly locked”; and, striding over to the potato-pit, he pulled out a big bundle of straw that closed the entrance, and dragged thence Lapa, alive and whining. “The knaves thrust it in there, ’tis clear; but how could Lapa let them do it? So fierce a dog!” “And how was it no bark was heard last night?” They sent to inform the Soltys, and the news flew over all the village. People thronged into the orchard, the pit was as much besieged as a church confessional: everyone peeped in, looked Burek over, and gave his opinion. Roch also came. He calmed Yuzka, who, voluble, excited, and tearful, was telling them what had occurred; then, going in to Hanka, who had lain down again, he said: “I feared lest ye might take this too much to heart.” “Wherefore? Glory be to God, he has stolen nothing.” She added, in a low voice: “For he came too late.” “Have ye any guess who it is?” “The blacksmith! I’d lay my life on’t!” “Then—was he searching for aught in particular?”