'You Blockhead!' he said.
Bartek struck his fist on the table, making all the glasses and pint-pots start up.
'Still, der Kerl da! Heu! Stroh!'
'Silence, no row! Ask the Priest or the Count, Blockhead.'
'Was the Priest in the war? Or was the Count there? But I was there. It's not true, boys. They'll know now how to respect us. Who won the battle? We won it, I won it. Now they'll give us anything we ask for. If I had wanted to become a land-owner in France, I should have stayed there. The Government knows very well who gave the French the best beating. And our regiment was the best. They said so in the military despatches. So now the Poles will get the upper hand;—do you see?'
Kierz waved his hand, stood up, and went out. Bartek had carried off the victory in the field of politics also. The young men remaining with him, regarded him as a perfect marvel. He continued:
'As if they wouldn't give me anything I want! If I don't get it, I should like to know who would! Old Kierz is a scoundrel, do you see? The Government commands you to fight, so you must fight. Who will illtreat me? The Germans? Is it likely?'
Here he again displayed his crosses and medals.
'And for whom did I beat the French? Not for the Germans, surely? I am a better man now than a German, for there's not one German as strong. Bring us some beer! I have talked to Steinmetz, and I have talked to Podbielski. Bring us some beer!'
They slowly prepared for their carouse.