"What is the news at your house? I hear some talk of a cast-off baby."
"Ah, yes, most illustrious master," answered the old man, adding the word "illustrious" if possible to secure a favourable hearing for his story. "Yesterday evening I heard a moaning sound under the oaks. I thought at first it was an owl; but, no, indeed, it was a baby, please your lordship."
"A boy?"
"Yes, a fine boy."
"And you found nothing else at the same time,--nothing but the baby, eh?" said the steward, fixing upon the old man his piercing, avaricious glance,--a glance which was almost terrifying. "No explanation whatever? No papers, no medal? For everything of that sort, you understand, must be turned over to the police; and the baby must be taken to the hospital."
At these words Iermola began to tremble and wring his hands. "No, my lord," he cried, "there was no sign of an explanation; the baby was wrapped only in a piece of coarse white cambric. I swear to this, my lord; but I do not wish--I will not give this little one to anybody, for God Himself gave him to me."
"Oh, oh! there must be something at the bottom of all this," replied the steward, laughing his wicked laugh. "A child is left at your door, and you wish to keep it? But an inquest may be held, some difficulties may arise, and some expenses be incurred. It is best that you should take the brat to the court or to the chief of the police, so that they can decide the matter; and as for the piece of cambric, send it at once to my wife, do you hear?"
So saying, the steward dismounted and gave his horse to the good man. Then he entered the hut, and Iermola's heart began to beat very fast. The poor old man dreaded for his child the presence and the gaze of this man, particularly as he could not go and protect the baby, for he could not leave the horse. He would have liked exceedingly to be present at the interview, but that was impossible; he listened intently, however, so as to hear as much as he could of the conversation which took place between the steward and the cossack's widow. This mental strain and anxiety agitated him to such a degree that when Hudny came out of the lowly mansion, Iermola was wiping away great drops of sweat as large as tears, which were running down his cheeks.
Fortunately the cossack's widow, for whom the steward entertained a sort of respect, had resolved to purchase peace at a moneyed price, and had taken care to buy her supply of butter from the Hudny dairy, and in some way or other succeeded in persuading him; and the result was that he did not persecute Iermola further on the subject of the baby, nor did he again order him to deliver it over to the police.
"Fie, fie, old fool!'" said he, as he remounted his horse. "Upon my word, it seems absurd for you to take upon yourself such a useless burden. However, I will undertake to make the report to the court; but if you take my advice, you will get rid of the new-comer as soon as possible. What necessity is there that you should have another mouth to feed; and why should a child be brought to you? Ah, it must be a droll story," he added, laughing again his coarse, wicked laugh.