“And we will manage it thus. To-morrow I lead you into a neighbouring village to the house where Frank is living. There are the fiddlers and the harpers, and we can fling up our heels in a hornpipe.”
Even this idea was one which seemed to have been borrowed from Loyka’s own mind, and Bartos did indeed borrow it from Loyka; because, as we know, a moment before Loyka had expressed his desire to have a dance before this unseen witness.
“The further I listen to thee, the more convinced I am that thou art a mighty sage,” said Loyka with evident satisfaction, and it was plain that the gravedigger had struck exactly the right chord.
“But inasmuch as we shall have a debauch there, we must rest ourselves before we set out on our journey. We must sleep, for we have not slept at all for several nights,” continued the gravedigger.
“Thou mightest stand and preach in the pulpit, good man,” said Loyka, highly delighted at what the gravedigger had said. By his vague discourse the gravedigger had in reality probed Loyka to the quick. And Loyka hearing that repeated from another’s mouth which a moment before he had been the only one to long for, and thus having the object of his own wishes freshly paraded before his mind, felt relieved. His words and expression were deprived of that sickeningly painful cast which a short time before had driven Frank to weeping and Staza to song.
