He tried to get up, but turned over on the other side instead. The blows and tugs recommenced, and the voice, choked with rage, continued:
'Get up! I wish the holy earth had never carried you!'
At last Maciek roused himself and sat up; the light hurt his eyes, his head felt heavy like a rock; so he closed his eyes again, supported his head and tried to think; immediately he received a blow in the face from a fist. When at last he opened his eyes, he saw that it was Slimak who was standing over him, mad with rage.
'What are you hitting me for?' he asked in amazement.
'Where are the horses, you thief?' shouted Slimak.
'Horses? what horses?'
He was suddenly seized with sickness. Coming to himself a little, he looked round. Yes, something seemed to be missing from the stable; he wiped his forehead, looked again… the stable was empty.
'But where are the horses?' he asked.
'Where?' cried Slimak, 'where your brothers have taken them, you thief.' The labourer held out his hands.
'I never took them out. I haven't stirred from here all night, something must have happened… I am ill.'