Kólya allowed himself to be made a participant in his wife's anger, and went at once to inform the servants of the magistrate, who was sitting in the village.
Towards evening Kólya, in ambush at the end of the village, spied the gypsy woman as she came sauntering by Lankadomb, carrying on her arm a large basket as if it were some great weight.
Kólya said nothing to her, he merely let her pass before him, and followed her on the other side of the street, until she reached the middle of the market-place, where many loiterers sauntered and listened to the tales of his wife.
"Halt, Marcsa!" cried Kólya, standing in the gypsy woman's way.
"What do you want?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders.
"What have you in your basket?"
"What should I have? A pig which you shall not taste, is in it."
"Of course. Has not the pig scolloped ears?"
"Suppose it has?"
"You speak lightly. Let me look at the pig."