"He will not! he will not!"
"But think ye not this way: Martsian will hurry to meet his father on the road back, to see and inquire if he has succeeded."
"As God is in heaven, he will do so."
"On the road, half-way between Belchantska and Yedlinka, is a tar pit near the roadside. If we should wait at that tar pit for Martsian--?"
"Well, but what for?"
"Psh! quiet!"
"Psh!"
And they began to look around through the room, though they knew that save themselves there was not a living soul in it, and then they whispered. They whispered long, now louder, now lower. At last their faces grew radiant, they finished their wine at one draught, embraced one another, and in silence went out of the room one after the other, in goose fashion.
They saddled their horses without the least noise, and each led his beast by the bit from the courtyard. When they had gone through the gate they mounted and rode stirrup by stirrup to the roadway where Yan, though the youngest, took command and said then to his brothers,--
"Now I with Marek will go to the tar pit, and do ye bring that cask before daybreak."