Meanwhile, she nevertheless felt overwhelmed with amazement. What! throw away six whole acres of land as one might cast away a broken pot?—How could she? The woman must be moonstruck, she thought, and eyed her over with astonishment. Yagna, paying no more attention to her, was now taking down her own pictures, when Yuzka entered with a loud outcry. “Give up the coral necklaces: they are mine from my mother—mine—mine—mine!” Yagna was just unfastening them, but stopped. “No,” she answered, “I will not. Matthias gave them to me: mine they are!” Yuzka shrieked and stormed, until Hanka was forced to silence her. Then all became calm again; Yagna seemed to have become deaf and dumb. After having taken all her things out, she hurried away to get her brother’s help. Dominikova made no further opposition, but replied to no word either from Hanka or from Yuzka. Only, when all her daughter’s things were on the cart, she rose and shook her fist, and said: “May the worst of all possible fates not pass you by!” Hanka winced under the curse, but took it quietly, and called after her: “When Vitek brings the cattle home, he’ll drive your cow to your hut. And send someone for all the rest in the evening, to drive them home to you.” She gazed for a long time upon them as they departed in silence, wending their way round the pond. She had no leisure for reflection, for the hired labourers came in presently: so she stowed the deed away carefully in her chest, under lock and key. But she was subdued and depressed the whole evening, and it was with but small pleasure that she listened to Yagustynka’s praises of what she had done. Then, after the men had returned once more to their work, she took Yuzka with her to weed the flax, which was in places quite yellow with wild flowers. She worked with great diligence to shake off old Dominikova’s menaces from her mind; but unsuccessfully; and she was especially uneasy about what Antek would say on his return. “How he will knit his brows when I show him the deed!—Oh, the fool!—Six whole acres! ’tis all but a farm by itself.” “Ah! Hanka,” Yuzka cried, “we have forgotten the letter about Gregory!” “Aye, so we have.—Yuzka, leave off your work: I shall go to the priest and ask him to read it.” The priest, however, was not within doors, and when she saw him at a distance among the field-workers, with his cassock taken off, she felt afraid he might rebuke her publicly for her act. “For no doubt,” she thought, “he must know about it by this time.” So she went to the miller, who was just then trying how the sawmill worked, along with Matthew. “My wife told me just how ye have smoked out your stepmother. Ha, ha! Ye look like a wagtail, but have the claws of a hawk!” Laughing, he set to read the letter, but at the first glance at it, he cried out: “Oh, what awful news!—Your Gregory has been drowned.—’Twas as far back as Eastertide.... They write that ye can get his things by applying at the District Office.”