But the other could
now control himself no longer, and dealt the recumbent figure a violent
kick, roaring:
"Up, I say, up, you gallows-bird, you're paid for working, not for
snoring!"
Pista, with a sudden spring, stood on his feet, and was instantly wide
awake. Looking angrily at the brutal intruder with his one eye, he
said in a voice quivering with suppressed anger: "I'm not working for
you by the day, but by the job, and if I sleep, I do it at my own loss,
not yours. Besides, I don't remember that I ever drank the pledge of
brotherhood with you."
Abonyi threw up his head, his face growing crimson as if he had
received a blow on the cheek.
"What," he shrieked, "does the rascal dare to insult me under my own
roof? I'll teach you at once who I am, and who you are." And he
raised the riding-whip which he usually carried, to deal Pista a blow.
The latter's kindly, free peasant blood began to boil. Taking a step
backward, he grasped a pitchfork lying within reach of his hand, and
hissed through the gaps in his teeth, as he brandished the weapon of
defence:
"Woe betide you if you touch me! I'll run the fork into you, as true
as God lives!"
Abonyi uttered a fierce imprecation and hastily retreated three paces
to the door, where he called back to the cartwright, who still
maintained his threatening attitude: "This will cost you dear, you
scoundrel!" and before Pista could suspect what his enemy meant to do,
the latter had shut the door and bolted it on the outside.
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