But a spark had fallen into the straw, and the former peaceful conversation was at an end. Jokisch and Schmielke suddenly commenced quarrelling. Jokisch, who had already drunk too much, began to speak disparagingly about Mrs. Tiralla. She was one of those whom you couldn't trust out of your sight. He felt quite sorry for Tiralla, who wasn't a bad fellow, but imposed upon, imposed upon. "My wife says----"
"Tut, tut, your wife's jealous," said Schmielke teasingly, and laughed. "Naturally it can't be agreeable for her to have the fair Sophia as her nearest neighbour."
"What do you mean?" roared the man. "I suppose you mean to infer that I've been carrying on with her. I've not had anything to do with her; I wouldn't touch her with a pair of tongs." He grew more and more furious.
"H'm, your wife has taught you well, I see," remarked the tax-collector superciliously.
"Taught me--taught me? I've finished my training long ago," roared the inspector. "I needn't learn any more. I was inspector for five years at Count Bninski's, in Opalenitza; I needn't learn any more for your rotten Prussian crown land, especially in that neighbourhood"--he spat on the floor--"in that----"
A blow closed his mouth. The schoolmaster had jumped up from his seat; all his vaunted culture had disappeared. "Hold your tongue!" he shouted, facing the tipsy inspector like a turkey-cock that has been infuriated by a piece of red cloth. He was a delicate-looking fellow, a mere stripling compared with the broad-shouldered inspector, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
Jokisch had, indeed, gone too far. "Psia krew!" cried the priest, without knowing what he said, whilst the others shouted in the wildest confusion, "Prove it, prove it!" He was to prove that he had the right to say such things about Sophia Tiralla. They were all simply burning with curiosity. What did he know of her, what, what? That anybody knew such things about her only added to her charm and piquancy in their eyes.
"Well, fire away," said Schmielke in a jovial voice.
The priest also smiled. He had often before listened to two men quarrelling, for he knew very well that they would in the end always bow to his judgment, although the matter was no concern of his.
"I don't know anything," said Jokisch, all at once quite sober. Oh, what a fool he had been, suddenly flashed through his mind. If he now said something about her, wouldn't they all believe that he had burnt his fingers? So far nobody knew that he had tried to kiss her in the dark stone passage at Starydwór a short time ago, and that she had given him a sound box on the ears for it. He therefore entrenched himself behind his wife. "My wife says she's a very bad housekeeper. My wife says she's very unkind to her husband. She sleeps alone in her own room."