"Here's the Prince wanting to do you a favor, and to let the land to you; only you are not worthy of it," said the steward.
"How are we not worthy of it, Vasili Karlovitch? Don't we work for you? We were well satisfied with the deceased lady--God have mercy on her soul--and the young Prince will not desert us now.
Our thanks to him," said a redhaired, talkative peasant.
"Yes, that's why I have called you together. I should like to let you have all the land, if you wish it."
The peasants said nothing, as if they did not understand or did not believe it.
"Let's see. Let us have the land? What do you mean?" asked a middle-aged man.
"To let it to you, that you might have the use of it, at a low rent."
"A very agreeable thing," said an old man.
"If only the pay is such as we can afford," said another.
"There's no reason why we should not rent the land."
"We are accustomed to live by tilling the ground."
"And it's quieter for you, too, that way. You'll have to do nothing but receive the rent. Only think of all the sin and worry now!" several voices were heard saying.
"The sin is all on your side," the German remarked. "If only you did your work, and were orderly."