Huluk, who was a good boy, finding that he could not rouse Iermola from this stunned condition either by taking hold of his hand or calling him in a loud voice,--for the old man did not hear, and would not have understood him if he had heard,--ran to the widow's house for help.
The good woman came immediately, somewhat agitated, and severely blaming the old man for what she called his want of sense.
"You act like a child," she said. "How can you be so silly at your age? You ought to rejoice at Radionek's good fortune."
She began to lecture him in this way from a distance as soon as she could see him; but as she drew nearer, she perceived with fright that he could not hear her; he did not move his head, and gave no sign of life.
His eyes were turned toward the oak-trees, his mouth hanging open, his head bent down, his hands extended, stiff, and already almost benumbed.
The cossack's widow ran to him, began to rub him hard, and at the same time to talk to him, sparing him neither hard words nor reproaches, for she did not know what else to do.
"Have you really gone crazy, old idiot? Do you think they have taken him away to butcher him? For shame! for shame! Ask God's pardon; it is a real sin."
But she was obliged to scold and shake him a long time before she saw life or consciousness return. At last he burst into tears, began to sob, to murmur indistinct words, and finally his reason revived.
"It is all over," he said; "all my happiness is over. I no longer have my darling, my treasure, my Radionek. He is now a rich and powerful lord at Malyczki; but at my house there is no child, and there will never again be one there."
Then he began to break up his pitchers and porringers and his working implements, and threw them out of the door.