“Wait, then!” And she turned away and fled to the cabbage-field. He gazed after her greedily, full of such craving, and burning with such fire in every vein, that he longed to pursue and seize her in the presence of all—and could barely hold back from doing so. “’Tis naught—only the great heat has inflamed me mightily,” he thought, and undressed quickly to take a bath. The cool water calmed him down; its chill brought him to his senses, and he began to reflect. “How miserably weak I am, for a trifle to upset me so!” He felt humiliated and looked round, fearing lest someone might have seen him with her; and then he carefully passed in review all he had heard said against Yagna. “A pretty creature you are, indeed!” he thought, in contempt not unmingled with sorrow. But suddenly, as he stopped beneath a tree, a vision of her came before his eyes, in all her dazzling and marvellous beauty. And he cried: “There’s not another like her in the whole wide world!” This he said to himself with a groan, yearning terribly to see her but once again, to gather her in his arms, to press her to his breast, and take his full of those red lips of hers, and suck her sweet honey to the very last drop! “Only, O Yagna! for this one last time! this once, this once only!” he cried aloud to her as if she had been present. For some time afterwards he rubbed his eyes, and gazed upon the trees around him, before he could muster sufficient strength to go back to the forge. Michael was alone, working at Antek’s plough. “Will your cart,” he asked him, “be able to bear such a great weight of timber?” “Let there be but the timber for it to bear!” “I have promised: ’tis just as if you had it on your cart already.” Antek set to ciphering on the door with a bit of chalk. “I find,” he said with much pleasure, “that I may earn about three hundred _zloty_ ere harvest-time.” “It will,” the smith remarked casually, “come in handy for that affair of yours.” Antek’s face clouded over at once, and his eyes looked gloomy. “Say that nightmare of mine! When I but think of it, I feel all broken, and care no more even for my life.” “That I can well understand; but not your having failed as yet to seek some means to preserve yourself.” “But what can I do?” “Something must be done. What, man! the calf gives its throat to the butcher: will you do so too?” “None can butt through a stone wall with his head,” Antek returned, sighing bitterly. Michael went on working with great energy; Antek sat plunged in disquieting and fearful thoughts, which made his face dark with changing expressions, till he started up and looked out in dismay. His brother-in-law let him suffer so for a considerable time, watching him with eyes full of cunning; but he finally said in a low voice: “Casimir of Modlitsa found a way.” “He that fled to ‘Hamerica’?” “The same. A clever dog!—Aye, and a resolute one: who knew what he had to do, and did it!” “Did they ever prove that he slew the gendarme?”