He sat down idly on a stool and stared into the flame of the lamp. Truly misfortune, like a deadly enemy, had dealt him a blow unawares from a blunt weapon. He felt as if he were being dragged helplessly into a dark, bottomless pit.
"What is to be done?" he whispered tremblingly.
The cold blast penetrated through a crack in the window like a phantom of evil omen. The doctor felt as if someone had touched him, as if there were a third person in the room besides himself and the patient.
He went into the kitchen and told the servant to fetch the Sołtys immediately.
The old woman instantly drew on a pair of large boots, threw a handkerchief over her head, and disappeared with a comical hobble.
Shortly afterwards the Sołtys appeared.
"Listen! Can you find me a man to ride to Obrzydłówek?"
"Now, doctor?... Impossible!... There's a blizzard; he'd be riding to his death. One wouldn't turn a dog out to-night."
"I will pay—I will reward him well."
The Sołtys went out. Dr. Paweł pressed his temples, which were throbbing as though they would burst. He sat down on a barrel and reflected on something which happened long ago.