The sergeant went to Josel, who received him enthusiastically. He invited him into the parlour and assured him that all his licences were in order.
'There is no signboard at the gate.'
'I'll put one up at once of whatever kind you like,' said the innkeeper obsequiously, and ordered a bottle of porter.
The sergeant now opened the question of the night-attack.
'What night-attack?' jeered Josel. 'The Germans shot at one another and then got frightened and made out that there was a gang of robbers about. Such things don't happen here.'
The sergeant wiped his moustache. 'All the same Sukiennik and Rogacz have been after the horses.'
Josel made a wry face. 'How could they, when they were in my house that night.'
'In your house?'
'To be sure,' Josel answered carelessly. 'Gryb and Orzchewski both saw them…dead drunk they were. What are they to do? they can't get regular work, and what a man perchance earns in a day he likes to drink away at night.'
'They might have got out.'