Russian peasants, when they have made up their minds in times of excitement to any outrageous proceeding, rarely delay long before putting their ideas into execution. Within an hour of the conclusion of the meeting the unfortunate Marfa had been arrested, accused, found guilty, sentenced, and executed. The manner of her execution was in accordance with the traditional end of convicted witches: she was placed in a large wheat sack, together with a dog, a cat, and a cock--all as innocent of conscious offence as she was herself--and thrown into the village pond, where the whole company went down to the bottom together, as a warning to other witches and evildoers, of which poor Marfa was neither the one nor the other. Two days after this tragedy a strange moujik sauntered into the village of Tirnova and called to see the starost, who, as it happened, was at home and received him. "Starost, brother," said the stranger, going straight to business, "why do you send your pastuch with milk to sell in our district? Have you no market of your own that you must needs spoil ours by overstocking it, and sending prices down for us?" "Ah, my brother, forgive us this time," said the starost; "it can never occur again. It was our misfortune to harbour among us a _vyedma_, who stole the milk from us and no doubt sold it in your district. She is now at the bottom of the village pond, and will steal no more milk. May her purchasers escape poisoning if they have drunk the milk of the witch." "Was your _vyedma_, then, in the likeness of a pastuch?" inquired the stranger. "She must have assumed his likeness," said the starost, who felt, nevertheless, a spasm of uncomfortable surmise dart through his brain. "What was this pastuch like?" The stranger described the Tirnova herdsman to the life. The starost, in spite of himself, now grew very grave with unpleasant reflections. When the strange moujik had departed he confided the story to a friend, who was, like the starost, immediately assailed by similar uncomfortable thoughts, which played havoc with the repose of his inmost soul. The pair decided to speak with the pastuch on this matter so soon as that functionary should have returned from the pasture. But that wily herdsman never did return to Tirnova. When the herd trooped into the village street at night, its meekly lowing members were without the guidance of their authorised protector. Moreover, the herd was short of a good horse which had belonged to the starost himself. Furthermore, when the proprietors of each cow came forward to make the usual demand upon the udders of the patient creatures, it was found that not one of them had a single pint of milk to present to its lawful and indignant owner.