"The Emperor! Did you actually speak to him?"
"Well--yes--after a fashion! They call it having an audience," said he, with a strangely gloomy smile. "And I would not come away without an answer...."
"Have you got it then? The Emperor's own answer?"
"No; but I know what it is going to be.... However, let us wait and see. I want to know how you have been getting on--and what about friend Hajek?"
"He is not over-anxious to show himself," said Simeon, making haste to add: "I am sure you will see that your farm meanwhile has done well. Your live stock is in the best condition, and the harvest was most plentiful. Your granaries are well filled, and I have eighty florins to give you for corn sold, and thirty for oats. But do tell us; did not the Emperor promise to see to the matter?"
"Promise!" said Taras bitterly, "to be sure he did!... But excuse me," he added, turning to the popadja, "I am quite faint with hunger. I was so anxious to reach home, that I put up nowhere today."
The little woman blushed, and ran to produce an enormous ham, with no end of excuses for her negligence; and, trotting to and fro, she set on the table whatever of hidden treasures her larder contained. But her hospitable intent was ill-requited; Taras swallowed a few mouthfuls, drank a glass of the pope's Moldavian, and then pushed from him the plate which the kind hostess had filled for him in her zeal.
"Why, you have not eaten enough for a sparrow," expostulated the popadja. "Do eat, judge--" correcting herself--"Taras!" But, again blushing, she added: "Why should I not call you 'judge,' for I daresay you will resume office pretty soon."
"No!" he said sharply. "I shall not, and never will"
"Of course you will," interrupted Simeon, eagerly. "You know I only accepted during your absence. I could never be to the village what you have been, and no one else could!"