'Oho, ho!' laughed Maciek, till the soup ran out of his spoon.

'What's true is true,' said Grochowski; 'even Gryb ought to understand that the cow ought to be where the girl is.'

'Then sell her to us,' Slimak said quickly.

Grochowski dropped his spoon on the table and his head on his chest. He reflected for a while, then he said in a tone of resignation:

'There's no help for it; as you are quite, decided I must sell you the cow.'

'But you'll take off something for us, won't you?' hastily added the woman in an ingratiating tone.

The Soltys reflected once more.

'You see, it's like this; if it were my cow I would come down. But she belongs to a poor orphan. How could I harm her? Give me thirty-five paper roubles and a silver rouble and the cow will be yours.'

'That's too much,' sighed Slimak.

'But she is worth it!' said the Soltys.

'Still, money sits in the chest and doesn't eat.'

'Neither will it give milk.'

'I should have to rent the field.'

'That will be cheaper than buying fodder.'

A long silence ensued, then Slimak said:

'Well, neighbour, say your last word.'

'I tell you, thirty-five paper roubles and a silver rouble. Gryb will be angry, but I'll do this for you.'

The gospodyni now cleared the bowl off the table and returned with a bottle of vodka, two gla.s.ses, and a smoked sausage on a plate.

'To your health, neighbour,' said Slimak, pouring out the vodka.

'Drink in G.o.d's name!'

They emptied the gla.s.ses and began to chew the dry sausage in silence.

Maciek was so affected by the sight of the vodka that he folded his hands on his stomach. It struck him that those two must be feeling very happy, so he felt happy too.

'I really don't know whether to buy the cow or not,' said Slimak; 'your price has taken the wish from me.'

Grochowski moved uneasily on his chair.

'My dear friend,' he said, 'what am I to do? this is the orphan's affair. I have got to buy her land, if for no other reason but because it annoys my wife.'

'You won't give thirty-five roubles for an acre.'

'Land is getting dearer, because the Germans want to buy it.'

'The Germans?'

'Those who bought Wolka. They want other Germans to settle near here.'

'There were two Germans near my field asking me a lot of questions. I didn't know what they wanted.'

'There you are! they creep in. Directly one has settled, others come like ants after honey, and then the land gets dearer.'

'Do they know anything about peasants' work?'

'Rather! They make more profits than we who are born here. The Germans are clever; they have a lot of cattle, sow clover and carry on a trade in the winter. We can't compete with them.'

'I wonder what their religion is like? They talk to each other like Jews.'

'Their religion is better than the Jews',' the Soltys said, after reflecting; 'but what is not Catholic is nothing. They have churches with benches and an organ; but their priests are married and go about in overcoats, and where the blessed Host ought to be on the altar they have a crucifix, like ours in the porch.'

'That's not as good as our religion.'

'Why!' said Grochowski, 'they don't even pray to the Blessed Mother.'

The gospodyni crossed herself.

'It's odd that the Merciful G.o.d should bless such people with prosperity. Drink, neighbour!'

'To your health! Why should G.o.d not bless them, when they have a lot of cattle? That's at the bottom of all prosperity.'

Slimak became pensive and suddenly struck his fist on the table.

'Neighbour,' he cried, raising his voice, 'sell me the cow!'

'I will sell her to you,' cried Grochowski, also striking the table.

'I'll give you...thirty-one roubles...as I love you.' Grochowski embraced him.

'Brother...give me...thirty...and four paper roubles and a silver rouble for the halter.'

The tired children cautiously stole into the room; the gospodyni poured out some soup for them and told them to sit in the corner and be quiet.

And quiet they were, except at one moment when Stasiek fell off the bench and his mother slapped Jendrek for it. Maciek dozed, dreaming that he was drinking vodka. He felt the liquor going to his head and fancied himself sitting by the Soltys and embracing him. The fumes of the vodka and the lamp were filling the room. Slimak and Grochowski moved closer together.

'Neighbour...Soltys,' said Slimak, striking the table again. 'I'll give you whatever you wish, your word is worth more than money to me, for you are the cleverest man in the parish. The Wojt is a pig...you are more to me than the Wojt or even the Government Inspector, for you are cleverer than they are...devil take me!'

They fell on each other's shoulders and Grochowski wept.

'Josef, brother,...don't call me Soltys but brother...for we are brothers!'

'Wojciek...Soltys...say how much you want for the cow. I'll give it you, I'll rip myself open to give it you...thirty-five paper roubles and a silver rouble.'