“What, I wonder, can Vanek want in the chapel?” thereupon enquired the neighbours one of another, on the village green; each took a few steps toward the middle of the green, and then replied to one another that no one could tell, because there was no fire in sight, and no one in the village had been seriously ill.
At that instant the funeral bell rang out. “The Lord God grant him heaven,” said the neighbours’ wives, crossed themselves and began to pray.
The men removed their pipes from their mouths, lifted their caps and crossed themselves from brow to breast. Everyone was like a statue, only that his lips moved somewhat; in the village nothing stirred, the funeral bell swung to and fro and spoke to all, and yet no one knew for whom it was ringing.
All at once the funeral bell was silent and the neighbours and neighbours’ wives, just as they had at first trailed off from the windows on to the village green, so now they trailed over the village green toward the chapel, each one only saying, “The Lord God be with us! Who is it, I wonder?” Their impatience increased because old Vanek still lingered long in the chapel, doubtless, in order to tie again to the bell the rope, which owing to its rottenness so frequently snapped asunder.
And when Vanek issued from the chapel, and his huge rusty key again scraped in the door a cry
