“Why, all the Lipka girls will not suffice!” “We shall send to town for more, hey?” “Be quiet, boys!” old Ploshka exclaimed, thumping on the table for silence. “Ye make such a hullabaloo as do the Jews in their synagogue on the Sabbath.—What I would say is this: is there not some trick in the Squire’s offer?” They all became silent suddenly: it was a bucket of cold water thrown over their enthusiasm. At last the Soltys spoke: “I too can in no wise understand what makes the man so very lavish.” “Aye,” one of the older men chimed in; “there must be something wrong about it: else how could he give up so much land almost for nothing?” Gregory flew into a passion, and cried out: “This I say: ye are a lot of drivelling fools!” And once more he set to explain everything, till he was all in perspiration. The blacksmith, too, put things as strongly as he could: but there was no convincing old Ploshka. He only wagged his head and smiled sceptically, till Gregory leaped at him with fists clenched and trembling with restrained fury. “Say your say, then, since you think ours to be worthless!” “So will I.—Well do I know that set of hounds; and I tell you: believe naught till ye see it down in black and white. They have from all time grown fat by wronging us; and now they mean to make money by some other wrong.” “If ye think thus, ye may withhold your vote; but do not prevent the others!” Klemba cried. “And you—you, one of them that went up against him to the forest: do you now take his part?” “As I went then, so will I go once more, if needful! I take not his part, but am only for a just agreement that shall advantage us all. Only a fool cannot see that such a contract is for the good of Lipka. Only a fool will refuse what is offered him.” “’Tis ye that are all fools! Ye would sell your breeches for a pair of braces.—Aye, and doubly fools! for if the Squire will give so much, he will perchance give yet more.” They went on disputing, while others took Klemba’s part, and the noise grew so deafening that Yankel came in, putting a bottleful of vodka on the table. “Come, come, good farmers all!” he cried. “Here’s to Podlesie—a new Lipka!—And be ye all masters there!” And he passed the vodka from one to another. This caused a still greater din; but everyone was now in favour of the agreement—except old Ploshka. The smith—he must have been well paid for his good offices—spoke the loudest of all, extolling the Squire, and his honourable intentions; and he stood drinks to the whole company—now vodka, now beer, now rum with so-called “essence.” They had thus enjoyed themselves a good deal—some indeed too well—when suddenly Kobus, who had hitherto not uttered one single word, started up and attacked them all with a savage onslaught of abuse.