"Little father," sobbed the child, lifting his hands beseechingly, "mother entreats you to come to us at once--at once! It is a matter of life and death, she says."
"Good God--what is it?"
"Alas!" cried the boy, "I cannot tell you! I only know that mother is in despair."
"Is your father at home?"
"Yes! We were just starting for church, when a messenger from Jewgeni arrived, saying, 'The judge will comply with your desire, and the general meeting shall be called,' Thereupon father turned to mother, saying, 'Then we cannot go to church, for I owe it to you to tell you before telling the others.' And to us he said, 'Run into the yard, children.' But we remained in the hall ... and ... we never did it before!" sobbed the child.
"Did you listen?"
"Yes! We heard father's voice, he spoke lowly and we could not understand. But presently mother gave a sharp cry, as though she were suffering some fearful pain. I could not help bursting in, Fedko and Tereska after me. Mother was on her knees before father. 'Don't do it--oh!' she sobbed. 'But I must!' he said, 'not even pity for you and the children must prevent me!' And we began to cry, and mother said, 'Yes, children ... come and kneel to him! Perhaps he will listen to your tears, if he will not to mine!' Ah, little father, her face was streaming...."
"Go on; what else?"
"We knelt, we lifted up our hands, and we cried, 'Don't do it, father, for pity's sake!' But he shook his head, big tears running down his own face. And then mother sent me to fetch you. Do come, little father!" said the child, weeping.
Father Leo's chest heaved. "How can I?" he said, "the people are waiting for the sermon! It would be wrong to disappoint them."