knows the ways of the people here and so can best advise you what to do.”
Tuhar smiled in spite of himself at this excellent display of feminine logic, but in a moment his forehead again wrinkled with irritation and displeasure. “So, you too, are taking Maxim’s side?” he cried. “Of course he saved your life and I am grateful to him for that. Any time you or he asks me, I will give him a pair of oxen.. But you are speaking here of a matter in which neither you nor Maxim have any right to concern yourselves.”
“No doubt, your insinuations, Boyarin, that I expect a reward is meant to belittle my dignity as a person. But you can rest assured that neither I nor my father will accept any reward from you! The fact that I ask you to come to the meeting tomorrow is done purely out of sincere friendliness because I would like to see a better understanding come about between you and the community.”
“Well, in that case then, all right!” replied Tuhar, somewhat mollified. “I’ll come to your folk-mote tomorrow, not to surrender myself to its will, mind you, but just to listen to what they have to say.”
“Do come, do!” exclaimed Maxim, elated, “You’ll see and be convinced yourself that the Tukholians know how to be just.”
Tuhar’s change of mind seemed to lift an oppressive weight off Maxim’s heart. He felt gayer and resumed conversing confidently with Peace-Renown, pointing out to the left and the right of them spots of special interest or beauty and there was much they passed which was both beautiful and interesting.
They had arrived at the center of the village of Tukhlia and of the valley. The precipitous banks, hemming in the kettle-like valley, loomed in the distance like gleaming columns of marble. The stream flowed through the center, right by the roadside, gurgling and foaming over its rock-strewn bed, re-
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