"He looked at us insolently," said Mateush. "As God is in heaven he wants to insult us."
"Just now he turned his horse's tail to us. What do ye say to that?"
"Well, he could not turn the horse's head, for horses do not travel tail forward like crawfish. But that he is making up to that young lady is certain," put in Marek.
"Thou hast taken in the situation correctly. See how he bends and leans forward. If his stirrup strap breaks he will fall."
"He will not fall, the son of a such a one, for the saddle straps are strong, and he is a firm rider."
"Well, brothers, are we to permit this? Never, as God lives! The girl is not for us, that may be, but does he remember what we did yesterday?"
"Of course! He must divine that, for he is cunning, and now he is making up to her to spite us."
"And in contempt for our poverty and orphanhood."
"Oh! upon my word a great magnate--on another man's horse."
"Well, for that matter we are not riding our own beasts."
"One horse remains to us anyhow, so if three sit at home the fourth man may ride to the war if he wishes; but that fellow has not even a saddle, for the wolves have made bits of it."
"Besides, he sticks his nose up. What has he against us? Just tell me."
"Eight away, but politely, so as not to offend old Pan Gideon. Only after he has answered can we challenge."
"I, of course, for I am the eldest," said Mateush. "I will rub the icicle from my mustache, and then at him!"
"But remember well what he says to thee."
"I will repeat every word, like the Lord's prayer."
Thereupon the eldest Bukoyemski set to rubbing off with his glove the ice from his mustache, and then urging his horse to the horse of Pan Yatsek he called,--
"What?" inquired Yatsek, turning his head from the carriage unwillingly.
Yatsek looked at him with astonishment, and answered,--
"Nothing!" then, shrugging his shoulders, he turned again to the carriage.
Mateush rode on some time in silence considering whether to return and report to his brothers or speak further. The second course seemed to him better, so he continued,--
"If thou think to do anything, I say that thou wilt do what thou hast said to me. Nothing!"
On Yatsek's face was an expression of constraint and annoyance. He understood that they were seeking a quarrel, for which at that moment he had not the least wish whatever. But he found need of some answer, and that of such kind as to end the conversation, so he asked,--