'Oho! they are opening the stable door, there is the snow, this time I will give it to them….'
The thieves must have found out that he was on the watch this time and made off. Maciek laughed; now he could go to sleep. He straightened his back, pressed the little girl close.
'Just a moment's sleep,' he reminded himself, 'I've something to do, but what is it? Ploughing? no, that's done. Water the horses.. the horses….'
After midnight the moon dispersed the clouds and the new moon peeped out and looked straight into the sleeper's face: but the man did not move. Fresh clouds came up and hid the moon, yet he did not move. He sat in the hollow of the hill, his head leaning against its side, the child clasped to his breast.
At last the sun rose, but even then he did not move. He seemed to be gazing in astonishment at the railway line, not more than twenty steps away from his resting place.
The sun was high when a signalman came along the permanent way. He caught sight of the sleeper and shouted, but there was no answer, and the man approached.
'Heh, father! have you been drinking?' he called out, as he went round the hollow at a distance. At last, hardly believing his eyes, he went up to the silent sitter and touched his hand.
Maciek's and the child's faces were hard, as if they had been cast in wax, hoarfrost lay on his lashes, and frozen moisture stood on the child's lips. The signalman's arms dropped in astonishment; he wanted to call for help, but remembered that no one would hear him. He turned and ran at full speed to the Soltys' office.
In the course of an hour or two a sledge with some men arrived to remove the bodies. But Maciek's was frozen so hard that it was impossible to open his arms or straighten his legs, so they put him in the sledge as he was. He went for his last drive with the child on his knees, his head resting against the rail, and his face turned upwards, as though he had done with human reckoning and was recounting his wrongs to his Creator.
When the mournful procession stopped, a small crowd of peasants, women, and Jews gathered in front of the Wojt's office. The Wojt, his clerk, and Grochowski were standing together. A shudder of remorse seized the latter, he guessed who the man and child were that had been found, frozen to death. He explained to the crowd what Maciek had told him.