About ten o'clock Adler went to the workshop to have a look at the damaged lathe. Near the machine he stepped by accident into a pool of blood and shuddered, but soon recovered himself. He carefully examined the cogwheel, to which bits of flesh and of the torn shirt still adhered. There were a few notches in the wheel.
"Have we got another wheel like that?" he asked the head-mechanic.
"Yes," whispered the pale German, who was sick at the sight of the blood.
"Has the doctor come?"
"Not yet."
Adler whistled through his teeth with impatience. The absence of the doctor made a very unpleasant impression on him. At last, about noon, he was informed that the doctor had arrived. The old man quickly left the house. In passing the room where Ferdinand was still sleeping off the effects of his drinking bout, he beat a tattoo on the door with his stick, but got no answer. There was a large crowd outside Gosławski's cottage, for hardly anyone had gone to church. They all wanted to know the details of Gosławski's accident. A neighbour had taken his wife and children to her house.
All conversation was stopped when the crowd caught sight of Adler. Only the most timid took off their caps, the others turned their heads away, and the boldest looked at him without raising their hands to their caps.
The mill-owner was struck. "What do they want of me?" he thought.
He spoke to one of the workmen, a German, and asked how the sick man was.
"They can't tell," the man answered sullenly. "They say his whole arm had to be taken off."