with me. He seemed to know his own value; he spoke and moved slowly;
from time to time a chuckle came from between his long moustaches.

We discussed the sowing, the crops, the peasant's life.... He always
seemed to agree with me; only afterwards I had a sense of awkwardness
and felt I was talking foolishly.... In this way our conversation was
rather curious. Hor, doubtless through caution, expressed himself very
obscurely at times.... Here is a specimen of our talk.

"Tell me, Hor," I said to him, "why don't you buy your freedom from
your master?"

"And what would I buy my freedom for? Now I know my master, and I know
my rent.... We have a good master."

'It's always better to be free,' I remarked. Hor gave me a dubious
look.

'Surely,' he said.

'Well, then, why don't you buy your freedom?' Hor shook his head.

'What would you have me buy it with, your honour?'

'Oh, come, now, old man!'

'If Hor were thrown among free men,' he continued in an undertone, as
though to himself, 'everyone without a beard would be a better man than
Hor.'