The mother fell quickly into a calm sleep, and rose early in the morning, awakened by a subdued tap at the kitchen door. The knock was incessant and patiently persistent. It was still dark and quiet, and the rapping broke in alarmingly on the stillness. Dressing herself rapidly, she walked out into the kitchen, and standing at the door asked:
"Who's there?"
"I," answered an unfamiliar voice.
"Who?"
"Open." The quiet word was spoken in entreaty.
The mother lifted the hook, pushed the door with her foot, and Ignaty entered, saying cheerfully:
"Well, so I'm not mistaken. I'm at the right place."
He was spattered with mud up to his belt. His face was gray, his eyes fallen.
"We've gotten into trouble in our place," he whispered, locking the door behind him.
"I know it."
The reply asto
