7. Knich’s House

The wagon had scarcely stopped before the door, when a boy, about nine years of age, strong and solid as a tower, red as the dawn, having the look of an eaglet, stepped forward to Maroussia. The determined look of his eyes said: “You are the stranger. It is your business to explain. What do you want?”

“Is Mr. Knich at home? ” Maroussia asked. “Then you have come for grandfather? ” said the boy, questioning instead of answering. “Yes, for your grandfather. Is he at home?” “He is.”

“Where is he?”

“He is in the garden; or may be in the house, or in the field.”

“Will you tell him that we have come?”

“And be quick,” added Ivan, lighting his pipe.

But the grandfather was already beside them.

He was a good old man, a little bent by age. He wore the simple dress of the peasant, a shirt and a pair of cloth trousers larger than a gulf of the Black Sea. His head was covered with a broad-brimmed straw hat . which he had probably braided himself.

He recognized Maroussia at once and did not seem at all surprised to see her. On the contrary, you would have thought that he was expecting her, and that such a visit was the most natural thing in the world.

“Ah, little girl!” he said. “How do you do? Always well? Always happy? Well, then, come into the house. But if you prefer to stay out of doors, Tarass knows the places where you will find strawberries, and where the raspberries are ripening. We have also other things, a nice supply of goodies, honeycomb, little pies, and large ones too.”

Ivan was struck with the mention of pies.

“I see that you have a house, well filled,” he said in a voice, still stern, but which the vision of pies had softened a little.

“I give thanks for it to God,” the old farmer answered. “Walk in, walk in, I beg of you.” He appeared so simple, courteous, and unaffected, this good old man Knich.

“Come in, come in,” he continued, “come in then. What a pleasure! What an agreeable surprise! What a godsend! I like all soldiers! Come in, come in, Mr. Soldier, I beg of you.”