an had washed for him, he went to call upon the rich man of the village (who held a mortgage on his meadow and rye-field) to plead with him for mercy, in the hope that the rich man might let him go free.
But he failed to find mercy in the heart of the mortgagee. The latter's only response was, "Bring the money."
So in the evening the peasant returned to his home in deep sorrow, and on entering the house was unable to suppress his tears. On hearing this sad news, Elissey became lost in thought.
"How," said he to himself, "will they now manage to live? They will go out to mow and have nothing for their labor, as the meadow is mortgaged. The rye will be ripe and the people will go harvesting (for the crop is abundant), but they need expect none of the fruits, for the whole deciatina [about three acres] is mortgaged to the rich peasant. When I go they will again be left to starve."
