"And pray when will he take himself off and let people sleep o' nights?" she asked with dissembled bitterness.
"He is not so easily got rid of, darling! If you were to chuck him out of doors with a pitchfork he would come in again through the window. He enjoys himself amazingly with the lads! Would you believe it, they got up a fine dance last night! There was no lack of partners either, for each of the lads brought in a large watch-dog, made it stand on its hind-legs, and danced with it that way. If you had been there you'd have split your sides for laughing. Last of all, everyone made his partner kiss the musician. Ha! ha! ha!"
"The beast!" cried Michal, wiping her mouth in disgust. "And why then does he not run away from a place where they treat him so vilely?"
"I'll tell you, my dear little squirrel! 'tis because he is desperately in love with me."
Then Michal thought how great must be the friendship of these two men, when one of them is willing to live as a guest in the headsman's house, make sport for the headsman's henchmen, endure their brutal jests, nay, even make love to this domestic witch, simply to bring his friend tidings of the woman who has been the cause of all his misery!
All that day Barbara Pirka did not bring Michal the clothes in which she had come, nor did Michal again put on the fine dress which had been given to her. She preferred to feign illness and lie in bed.
But Henry dared not show his face to her all that day.
Neither on that nor yet on the following day did he appear before her. He was waiting till Michal got up.
She, however, would take nothing but broth, so that she might say she was ill and not be obliged to get up.
And night after night she listened at the window to the farogato, and it sometimes seemed to her as if someone was urging the musician to play with all his might.