"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,--
"My dear Sir?"
"What?" inquired Yatsek, turning his head from the carriage unwillingly.
"What have you against us?"
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,--