“There’s not another man in the world like him!” the women said, moved even to tears; but at the same time they blamed Teresa with the utmost severity; all except Yagustynka, who took her part with great zeal. “Teresa is not in fault!” she cried, when hearing her spoken against in orchards and enclosures. “She was all but a child when John’s military service began. Alone and childless as yet, she wanted some loving friend about her. And Matthew, like a hound, caught up the trail; and he flattered and fondled her, and took her out to hear the band play ... till the poor silly girl’s head was turned!” One of them said with a sigh: “Why is there no law to punish such deceivers?” “He has some grey hairs already, yet runs after women as ever!” “But how’s a wretched bachelor to live, unless he takes another’s property?” objected the young men, jeering. “If she’s not to blame, no more is he,” said Staho Ploshka; “where there’s no giving, there’s no taking.” For which ribaldry he was well-nigh assaulted by the women. But the matter was not discussed very long: the harvest was at hand, the weather magnificent. On the uplands, the rye was, as it were, asking to be reaped; the barley was not much behind, and they went daily to inspect it. Already reapers were being engaged by the richer peasants. The organist opened the harvest with a dozen or so of hired women reapers; his wife and daughters too took a hand in the work, while he superintended them all most watchfully. Yanek came only after Mass to help, and did not enjoy the fun long; his mother sent him home as soon as the noonday heat set in, fearing lest the sun might give him a headache. Kozlova grumbled: “He’s going to find shade at Yagna’s—that’s his game!” At home, however, it was not only very hot, but very troublesome because of the pitiless attacks of the flies there: So he went out into the village, passing outside the Klembas’. There he caught the sound of moans, issuing from within the wide-open cabin door. It was Agata, lying in the passage, close to the threshold; everybody else had gone a-reaping. He carried her into the room, laid her on a bed, gave her to drink, and revived her, so that, after a time, she opened her eyes. “’Tis the end coming, young master,” she said with a childlike smile. He would have run for the priest, but she caught at his soutane to prevent him. “To-day the Blessed Virgin said to me: ‘Be ready for to-morrow, weary soul!’ So there is time still, young master!—To-morrow!—Thanks, thanks, O most merciful Lord!” she faltered, and her voice trailed away into silence. A smile flickered on her lips; she clasped her hands and, looking far away, sank into a state of profound mental prayer. Yanek, now sure that her last hour was drawing near, went to fetch the Klembas.