brought they began to drink, looking around the room at the men and blinking, for the place was rather dark. The snow had blocked the windows; and the broad, low opening of the chimney in which the fire was burning was hidden completely by certain figures with their backs to the crowd.
When the punch had begun to circulate in the veins of the cavaliers, bearing through their bodies an agreeable warmth, their cheerfulness, depressed by the reception at Vodokty, sprang up again; and all at once Zend fell to cawing like a crow, so perfectly that all faces were turned toward him.
The cavaliers laughed, and the nobles, enlivened, began to approach, especially the young men, — powerful fellows with broad shoulders and plump cheeks. The figures sitting at the chimney turned their faces to the room, and Rekuts was the first to see that they were women.
Zend closed his eyes and cawed, cawed. Suddenly he stopped, and in a moment those present heard the cry of a hare choked by a dog; the hare cried in the last agony, weaker and lower, then screamed in despair, and was silent for the ages; in place of it was heard the deep bellow of a furious stag as loud as in spring-time.
The Butryms were astonished. Though Zend had stopped, they expected to hear something again; but they heard only the piping voice of Rekuts, —
"Those are titmice sitting near the chimney!"
"That is true!" replied Kokosinski, shading his eyes with his hand.
"As true as I live!" added Uhlik, "but it is so dark in the room that I could not see them."
"I am curious. What are they doing?"
"Maybe they have come to dance."
"But wait; I will ask," said Kokosinski. And raising his voice, he asked, " My dear women, what are you doing there at the chimney?"
"We are warming our feet," answered thin voices.
Then the cavaliers rose and approached the hearth. There were sitting at it, on a long bench, about ten women, old and young, holding their bare feet on a log lying by the fire. On the other side of the log their shoes wet from the snow were drying.
"So you are warming your feet?" asked Kokosinski.
"Yes, for they are cold."
"Very pretty feet," piped Rekuts, inclining toward the log.
"But keep at a distance," said one of the women.
