The head made no reply, and seemed plunged in thought, only nodding his head at times, and rubbing his eyes. Encouraged by these gestures, the Voyt spoke strongly in favour of the school, and those of his party likewise, the miller distinguishing himself amongst them, and scorning the interruptions of Gregory’s partisans, until the latter grew angry and shouted: “We are pouring empty vessels into the void!” and availed himself of an opportunity to step forward and ask boldly: “We would know what kind of school this new one is to be.” “Like all the others!” he said, opening his eyes very wide. “That is the very sort we do not want. We’d vote even half a rouble an acre for a Polish school, but not a stiver for any other.” “Those schools are good for nothing!” cried one. “My children learned there for three years, and do not know their A B C.” “Be still, good folk, be still!” growled the head. The sheep were getting lively, and the wolf was biding his time. “Those infernal talkers! they will talk the people to its ruin!” And now every man was striving to speak louder than his neighbours, and the din became deafening, each one maintaining his own view. They had broken up into small groups, disputing with one another, and getting ever more and more excited, Gregory’s party especially standing up most stubbornly against the school. It was to no purpose that the Voyt, the miller, and the others of that side went about explaining, beseeching, even threatening awful things that might come to pass: the greater part of the assembly had got quite out of hand, excited to exasperation, and talking themselves hoarse. The District Official, who sat seemingly indifferent to the hubbub, conferred in whispers with the scrivener, and let them talk their fill; and when he judged they had enough of that senseless noise, he told the Voyt to ring the bell. “Silence there!” thundered the Soltyses of each village. “Silence! and lend your ears.” Then, before all was quite still, rose the voice of command: “The school, look ye! has to be built. Obey, then, and do as ye are bidden.” His tone was as hard and stern as could be; but they were no longer afraid, and Klemba answered him back on the spot. “We force no one to walk on his head: let others likewise allow us to speak in our tongue, as God has given it us!” “Hold your tongue!” shrieked the Voyt, ringing the bell to no purpose. “Peace, you son of a dog!” “What I have said, I repeat: in our schools our language must be taught!” “Karpenko! Ivanoff!” the Voyt cried to the gendarmes who stood in the centre of the throng; but the peasants pressed round them directly, and they heard a whisper: “Let but one of you touch one of us—we are three hundred—ye shall see!”