Zagloba took the flask gladly, and drank to his liking. Soon a pleasant warmth spread through his members. It began to grow clear in his brain, and his mind became bright.
“Come down from the horse,” said he to Kovalski, “and sit here a short time in the wagon; let us talk, for I should like to have you say something about our family. I respect service, but this too is permitted.”
Kovalski did not answer for a while.
“This was not forbidden,” said he, at last.
Soon after he was sitting at the side of Zagloba, and stretched himself gladly on the straw with which the wagon was filled.
Zagloba embraced him heartily.
“How is the health of thy old father?—God help me,—I’ve forgotten his name.”
“Roh, also.”
“That’s right, that’s right. Roh begat Roh,—that is according to command. You must call your son Roh as well, so that every hoopoo may have his topknot. But are you married?”
“Of course! I am Kovalski, and here is Pani Kovalski; I don’t want any other.”