It was
clearly no place for hungry men. Jacob pushed his way toward the
inner room.
"Ho! Paulina!" he shouted, "two plates for men who have not eaten."
"Have not eaten!" The startling statement quickened Paulina's slow
movements almost to a run. "Here, here," she said, "bring them to
the window at the back."
Another struggle and Jacob with his guests were receiving through
the window two basins filled with luscious steaming stew.
As they turned away with their generous host, a man with a heavy
black beard appeared at the window.
"Another hungry man, Paulina," he said quietly in the Galician tongue.
"Holy Virgin! Where have these hungry men been?" cried Paulina,
hurrying with another basin to the window.
The man fumbled and hesitated as he took the dish.
"I have been far away," he said, speaking now in the Russian
tongue, in a low and tense voice.
Paulina started. The man caught her by the wrist.
"Quiet!" he said. "Speak no word, Paulina."
The woman paled beneath the dirt and tan upon her face.
"Who is it?" she whispered with parched lips.
"You know it is Michael Kalmar, your husband. Come forth.
I wait behind yon hut. No word to any man.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53