“Ask the bird you let go out of your hand: ye will see!... Did you hear the banns published?” “And when is the wedding to be?” Here Nastka answered, nestling tenderly to his side, and passing her arm round his waist: “In three weeks, before harvest-home.” And she blushed deeply. “And the wedding shall take place, were it in the tavern: I will not beg to use Mother’s cabin.” “But have you a place for your wife?” “Certainly; I shall remove to the side of our cabin opposite Mother’s. I shall not seek lodgings amongst the villagers. Let her but give me the land that’s my due—I shall do well!” he said, swelling with self-confidence. “And we,” Matthew declared, “are not going to send Nastka away empty-handed. She will get one thousand _zloty_ in cash!” Here the smith came up, took him aside, whispered a word, and hurried away. They went on talking, and filling up imaginary details. Simon thought with sparkling eyes what a good farmer he would be, once come into his own, and how he would settle down to work. Oh, they would soon see what a man he was!—Nastka gazed on him, open-mouthed in wonder. Andrew talked in the same sense; Yagna alone was absent-minded, hearing barely half of what they said. It did not interest her. “Yagna!” Matthew cried. “Come over to the tavern; the band will be playing.” “I care no more for such amusements,” she replied, sadly. Her eyes were dimmed. He shot a glance into them, pulled his cap down, and rushed off, jostling those in his way. In front of the priest’s house he met Teresa. “Whither away?” she asked him timidly. “To the tavern. A meeting has been called by the smith.” “I should go with you gladly.” “I neither thrust you aside, nor is there lack of space. But take heed lest they speak evil of you for the glances of your eyes!” “They speak as it is, and tear me to pieces, as dogs tear a dead sheep.” “Then wherefore give them occasion?” he asked, now growing impatient. “Wherefore? Well, you know wherefore!” she replied in a husky voice. He walked forward, and so fast that she could hardly keep up with him. Suddenly turning round on her, “Now then!” he cried; “there ye are, shedding tears like a calf!” “Nay, nay! ’twas but a little dust in mine eyes,” she returned. Unexpectedly, he moderated his pace, and, walking by her side, spoke to her with much gentleness: “Here is a little money: purchase something for yourself at one of these booths.—And come ye to the tavern: we will dance together.” She would fain have fallen at his feet to thank him. “For the money I care not; but your kindness, how great it is!” she faltered, her face red as fire. “Well, come then; but later. Until the evening I shall be much engaged.” And with a farewell smile on the tavern door-step, he went in.