'Why, yes,' said the woman, pleased, 'he is always at the manor or in
the town and doesn't care about his home; it was all I could do to make
him lay the floor. Be so kind as to sit near the stove, neighbour, I'll
get supper.'

She poured out a large bowl of peeled barley soup and put it on the
table, and a small one for Maciek.

'Eat in God's name, and if you want anything, say so.'

'But are not you going to sit down?'

'I always eat last with the children. Maciek, you may take your bowl.'

Maciek, grinning, took his portion and sat down on a bench opposite the
alcove, so that he could see the Soltys and listen to human
intercourse, for which he was longing. He looked contentedly from
behind his steaming bowl at the table; the smoking lamp seemed to him
the most brilliant illumination, and the wooden chairs the height of
comfort. The sight of the Soltys, who was lolling back, filled him with
reverence. Was it not he who had driven him to the recruiting-office
when it was the time for the drawing of lots? who had ordered him to be
taken to the hospital and told him he would come out completely cured?
who collected the taxes and carried the largest banner at the
processions and intoned 'Let us praise the Holy Virgin'? And now he,
Maciek Owczarz, was sitting under one roof with this same Grochowski.

How comfortable he made himself! Maciek tried to lean back in the same
fashion, but the scandalized wall pushed him forward, reminding him
that he was not the Soltys. So although his back ached, he bent still