Complete works of henryk.., p.259
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz, page 259
Pan Michael turned again to the driver, “But drive faster!”
“We left our horses and things at Praga,” said Pan Makovetski to Zagloba, “and set out with two men, though it was nightfall, for Michael and I were in a terrible hurry.”
“I believe it,” answered Zagloba. “Do you see what throngs have come to the capital? Outside the gates are camps and markets, so that it is difficult to pass. People tell also wonderful things of the coming election, which I will repeat at a proper time in the house to you.”
Here they began to converse about politics. Zagloba was trying to discover adroitly Makovetski’s opinions; at last he turned to Pan Michael and asked without ceremony, “And for whom will you give your vote, Michael?”
But Pan Michael, instead of an answer, started as if roused from sleep, and said, “I am curious to know if they are sleeping, and if we shall see them to-day?”
“They are surely sleeping,” answered Basia, with a sweet and as it were drowsy voice. “But they will wake and come surely to greet you and uncle.”
“Do you think so?” asked the little knight, with joy; and again he looked at Basia, and again thought involuntarily, “But that rogue is charming in this moonlight.”
They were near Ketling’s house now, and arrived in a short time. Pani Makovetski and Krysia were asleep; a few of the servants were up, waiting with supper for Basia and Pan Zagloba. All at once there was no small movement in the house; Zagloba gave command to wake more servants to prepare warm food for the guests.
Pan Makovetski wished to go straightway to his wife; but she had heard the unusual noise, and guessing who had come, ran down a moment later with her robe thrown around her, panting, with tears of joy in her eyes, and lips full of smiles; greetings began, embraces and conversation, interrupted by exclamations.
Pan Michael was looking continually at the door, through which Basia had vanished, and in which he hoped any moment to see Krysia, the beloved, radiant with quiet joy, bright, with gleaming eyes, and hair twisted up in a hurry; meanwhile, the Dantzig clock standing in the dining-room ticked and ticked, an hour passed, supper was brought, and the maiden beloved and dear to Pan Michael did not appear in the room.
At last Basia came in, but alone, serious somehow, and gloomy; she approached the table, and taking a light in her hand, turned to Pan Makovetski: “Krysia is somewhat unwell, and will not come; but she begs uncle to come, even near the door, so that she may greet him.”
Pan Makovetski rose at once and went out, followed by Basia.
The little knight became terribly gloomy and said, “I did not think that I should fail to see Panna Krysia to-night. Is she really ill?”
“Ei! she is well,” answered his sister; “but people are nothing to her now.”
“Why is that?”
“Then has his grace, Pan Zagloba, not spoken of her intention?”
“Of what intention, by the wounds of God?”
“She is going to a convent.”
Pan Michael began to blink like a man who has not heard all that is said to him; then he changed in the face, stood up, sat down again. In one moment sweat covered his face with drops; then he began to wipe it with his palms. In the room there was deep silence.
“Michael!” said his sister.
But he looked confusedly now on her, now on Zagloba, and said at last in a terrible voice, “Is there some curse hanging over me?”
“Have God in your heart!” cried Zagloba.
CHAPTER XIX.
Zagloba and Pani Makovetski divined by that exclamation the secret of the little knight’s heart; and when he sprang up suddenly and left the room, they looked at each other with amazement and disquiet, till at last the lady said, “For God’s sake go after him! persuade him; comfort him; if not, I will go myself.”
“Do not do that,” said Zagloba. “There is no need of us there, but Krysia is needed; if he cannot see her, it is better to leave him alone, for untimely comforting leads people to still greater despair.”
“I see now, as on my palm, that he was inclined to Krysia. See, I knew that he liked her greatly and sought her company; but that he was so lost in her never came to my head.”
“It must be that he returned with a proposition ready, in which he saw his own happiness; meanwhile a thunderbolt, as it were, fell.”
“Why did he speak of this to no one, neither to me, nor to you, nor to Krysia herself? Maybe the girl would not have made her vow.”
“It is a wonderful thing,” said Zagloba; “besides, he confides in me, and trusts my head more than his own; and not merely has he not acknowledged this affection to me, but even said once that it was friendship, nothing more.”
“He was always secretive.”
“Then though you are his sister, you don’t know him. His heart is like the eyes of a sole, on top. I have never met a more outspoken man; but I admit that he has acted differently this time. Are you sure that he said nothing to Krysia?”
“God of power! Krysia is mistress of her own will, for my husband as guardian has said to her, ‘If the man is worthy and of honorable blood, you may overlook his property.’ If Michael had spoken to her before his departure, she would have answered yes or no, and he would have known what to look for.”
“True, because this has struck him unexpectedly. Now give your woman’s wit to this business.”
“What is wit here? Help is needed.”
“Let him take Basia.”
“But if, as is evident, he prefers that one — Ha! if this had only come into my head.”
“It is a pity that it did not.”
“How could it when it did not enter the head of such a Solomon as you?”
“And how do you know that?”
“You advised Ketling.”
“I? God is my witness, I advised no man. I said that he was inclined to her, and it was true; I said that he was a worthy cavalier, for that was and is true; but I leave match-making to women. My lady, as things are, half the Commonwealth is resting on my head. Have I even time to think of anything but public affairs? Often I have not a minute to put a spoonful of food in my mouth.”
“Advise us this time, for God’s mercy! All around I hear only this, that there is no head beyond yours.”
“People are talking of this head of mine without ceasing; they might rest awhile. As to counsels, there are two: either let Michael take Basia, or let Krysia change her intention; an intention is not a vow.”
Now Pan Makovetski came in; his wife told him everything straightway. The noble was greatly grieved, for he loved Pan Michael uncommonly and valued him; but for the time he could think out nothing.
“If Krysia will be obstinate,” said he, rubbing his forehead, “how can you use even arguments in such an affair?”
“Krysia will be obstinate!” said Pani Makovetski. “Krysia has always been that way.”
“What was in Michael’s head that he did not make sure before departing?” asked Pan Makovetski. “As he left matters, something worse might have happened; another might have won the girl’s heart in his absence.”
“In that case, she would not have chosen the cloister at once,” said Pani Makovetski. “However, she is free.”
“True!” answered Makovetski.
But already it was dawning in Zagloba’s head. If the secret of Krysia and Pan Michael had been known to him, all would have been clear to him at once; but without that knowledge it was really hard to understand anything. Still, the quick wit of the man began to break through the mist, and to divine the real reason and intention of Krysia and the despair of Pan Michael. After a while he felt sure that Ketling was involved in what had happened. His supposition lacked only certainty; he determined, therefore, to go to Michael and examine him more closely. On the road alarm seized him, for he thought thus to himself, —
“There is much of my work in this. I wanted to quaff mead at the wedding of Basia and Michael; but I am not sure that instead of mead, I have not provided sour beer, for now Michael will return to his former decision, and imitating Krysia, will put on the habit.”
Here a chill came on Zagloba; so he hastened his steps, and in a moment was in Pan Michael’s room. The little knight was pacing up and down like a wild beast in a cage. His forehead was terribly wrinkled, his eyes glassy; he was suffering dreadfully. Seeing Zagloba, he stopped on a sudden before him, and placing his hands on his breast, cried, —
“Tell me the meaning of all this!”
“Michael!” said Zagloba, “consider how many girls enter convents each year; it is a common thing. Some go in spite of their parents, trusting that the Lord Jesus will be on their side; but what wonder in this case, when the girl is free?”
“There is no longer any secret!” cried Pan Michael. “She is not free, for she promised me her love and hand before I left here.”
“Ha!” said Zagloba; “I did not know that.”
“It is true,” repeated the little knight.
“Maybe she will listen to persuasion.”
“She cares for me no longer; she would not see me,” cried Pan Michael, with deep sorrow. “I hastened hither day and night, and she does not even want to see me. What have I done? What sins are weighing on me that the anger of God pursues me; that the wind drives me like a withered leaf? One is dead; another is going to the cloister. God Himself took both from me; it is clear that I am accursed. There is mercy for every man, there is love for every man, except me alone.”
Zagloba trembled in his soul, lest the little knight, carried away by sorrow, might begin to blaspheme again, as once he blasphemed after the death of Anusia; therefore, to turn his mind in another direction, he called out, “Michael, do not doubt that there is mercy upon you also; and besides, you cannot know what is waiting for you to-morrow. Perhaps that same Krysia, remembering your loneliness, will change her intention and keep her word to you. Secondly, listen to me, Michael. Is not this a consolation that God Himself, our Merciful Father, takes those doves from you, and not a man walking upon the earth? Tell me yourself if this is not better?”
In answer the little knight’s mustaches began to tremble terribly; the noise of gritting came from his teeth, and he cried with a suppressed and broken voice, “If it were a living man! Ha! Should such a man be found, I would — Vengeance would remain.”
“But as it is, prayer remains,” said Zagloba. “Hear me, old friend; no man will give you better counsel. Maybe God Himself will change everything yet for the better. I myself — you know — wished another for you; but seeing your pain, I suffer together with you, and together with you will pray to God to comfort you, and incline the heart of that harsh lady to you again.”
When he had said this, Zagloba began to wipe away tears; they were tears of sincere friendship and sorrow. Had it been in the power of the old man, he would have undone at that moment everything that he had done to set Krysia aside, and would have been the first to cast her into Pan Michael’s arms.
“Listen,” said he, after a while; “speak once more with Krysia; take your lament to her, your unendurable pain, and may God bless you! The heart in her must be of stone if she does not take pity on you; but I hope that she will. The habit is a praiseworthy thing, but not when made of injustice to others. Tell her that. You will see — Ei, Michael, to-day you are weeping, and to-morrow perhaps we shall be drinking at the betrothal. I am sure that will be the outcome. The young lady grew lonely, and therefore the habit came to her head. She will go to a cloister, but to one in which you will be ringing for the christening. Perhaps too she is affected a little with hypochondria, and mentioned the habit only to throw dust in our eyes. In every case, you have not heard of the cloister from her own lips, and if God grants, you will not. Ha, I have it! You agreed on a secret; she did not wish to betray it, and is throwing a blind in our eyes. As true as life, nothing else but woman’s cunning.”
Zagloba’s words acted like balsam on the suffering heart of Pan Michael: hope entered him again; his eyes were filled with tears. For a long time he could not speak; but when he had restrained his tears he threw himself into the arms of his friend and said, “But will it be as you say?”
“I would bend the heavens for you. It will be as I say! Do you remember that I have ever been a false prophet? Do you not trust in my experience and wit?”
“You cannot even imagine how I love that lady. Not that I have forgotten the beloved dead one; I pray for her every day. But to this one my heart has grown fixed like fungus to a tree; she is my love. What have I thought of her away off there in the grasses, morning and evening and midday! At last I began to talk to myself, since I had no confidant. As God is dear to me, when I had to chase after the horde in the reeds, I was thinking of her when rushing at full speed.”
“I believe it. From weeping for a certain maiden in my youth one of my eyes flowed out, and what of it did not flow out was covered with a cataract.”
“Do not wonder; I came here, the breath barely in my body; the first word I hear, — the cloister. But still I have trust in persuasion and in her heart and her word. How did you state it? ‘A habit is good’ — but made of what?”
“But not when made of injustice to others.”
“Splendidly said! How is it that I have never been able to make maxims? In the stanitsa it would have been a ready amusement. Alarm sits in me continually, but you have given me consolation. I agreed with her, it is true, that the affair should remain a secret; therefore it is likely that the maiden might speak of the habit only for appearance’ sake. You brought forward another splendid argument, but I cannot remember it. You have given me great consolation.”
“Then come to me, or give command to bring the decanter to this place. It is good after the journey.”
They went, and sat drinking till late at night.
Next day Pan Michael arrayed his body in fine garments and his face in seriousness, armed himself with all the arguments which came to his own head, and with those which Zagloba had given him; thus equipped, he went to the dining-room, where all met usually at meal-time. Of the whole company only Krysia was absent, but she did not let people wait for her long; barely had the little knight swallowed two spoonfuls of soup when through the open door the rustle of a robe was heard, and the maiden came in.
She entered very quickly, rather rushed in. Her cheeks were burning; her lids were dropped; in her face were mingled fear and constraint. Approaching Pan Michael, she gave him both hands, but did not raise her eyes at all, and when he began to kiss those hands with eagerness, she grew very pale; besides, she did not find one word for greeting. But his heart filled with love, alarm, and rapture at sight of her face, delicate and changeful as a wonder-working image, at sight of that form shapely and beautiful, from which the warmth of recent sleep was still beating; he was moved even by that confusion and that fear depicted in her face.
“Dearest flower!” thought he, in his soul, “why do you fear? I would give even my life and blood for you.” But he did not say this aloud, he only pressed his pointed mustaches so long to her hands that red traces were left on them. Basia, looking at all this, gathered over her forehead her yellow forelock of purpose, so that no one might notice her emotion; but no one gave attention to her at that time; all were looking at the pair, and a vexatious silence followed.
Pan Michael interrupted it first. “The night passed for me in grief and disquiet,” said he; “for yesterday I saw all except you, and such terrible tidings were told of you that I was nearer to weeping than to sleep.”
Krysia, hearing such outspoken words, grew still paler, so that for a while Pan Michael thought that she would faint, and said hurriedly, “We must talk of this matter; but now I will ask no more, so that you may grow calm and recover. I am no barbarian, nor am I a wolf, and God sees that I have good-will toward you.”
“Thank you!” whispered Krysia.
Zagloba, Pan Makovetski, and his wife began to exchange glances, as if urging one another to begin the usual conversation; but for a long time no one was able to venture a word; at last Zagloba began. “We must go to the city to-day,” said he, turning to the newly arrived. “It is boiling there before the election, as in a pot, for every man is urging his own candidate. On the road, I will tell you to whom, in my opinion, we should give our votes.”
No one answered, therefore Zagloba cast around an owlish eye; at last he turned to Basia, “Well, Maybug, will you go with us?”
“I will go even to Russia!” answered Basia, abruptly.
And silence followed again. The whole meal passed in similar attempts to begin a conversation that would not begin. At last the company rose. Then Pan Michael approached Krysia at once and said, —
“I must speak with you alone.”
He gave her his arm and conducted her to the adjoining room, to that same apartment which was the witness of their first kiss. Seating Krysia on the sofa, he took his place near her, and began to stroke her hair as he would have stroked the hair of a child.
“Krysia!” said he, at last, with a mild voice. “Has your confusion passed? Can you answer me calmly and with presence of mind?”
Her confusion had passed, and besides, she was moved by his kindness; therefore she raised for a moment her eyes on him for the first time since his return. “I can,” said she, in a low voice.
“Is it true that you have devoted yourself to the cloister?”
Krysia put her hands together and began to whisper imploringly, “Do not take this ill of me, do not curse me; but it is true.”
“Krysia!” said the knight, “is it right to trample on the happiness of people, as you are trampling? Where is your word, where is our agreement? I cannot war with God, but I will tell you, to begin with, what Pan Zagloba told me yesterday, — that the habit should not be made of injustice to others. You will not increase the glory of God by injustice to me. God reigns over the whole world; His are all nations, His the lands and the sea and the rivers, the birds of the air and the beasts of the forests, the sun and the stars. He has all, whatsoever may come to the mind of man, and still more; but I have only you, beloved and dear; you are my happiness, my every possession. And can you suppose that the Lord God needs that possession? He, with such wealth, to tear away his only treasure from a poor soldier? Can you suppose that He will be rejoiced, and not offended? See what you are giving Him, — yourself. But you are mine, for you promised yourself to me; therefore you are giving Him that which belongs to another, that which is not your own: you are giving Him my weeping, my pain, my death. Have you a right to do so? Weigh this in your heart and in your mind; finally ask your own conscience. If I had offended you, if I had contemned you in love, if I had forgotten you, if I had committed crimes or offences — ah, I will not speak; I will not speak. But I went to the horde, to watch, to attack ravagers, to serve the country with my blood, with my health, with my time; and I loved you, I thought of you whole days and nights, and as a deer longs for waters, as a bird for the air, as a child for its mother, as a parent for its child, was I longing for you. And for all this what is the greeting, what the reward, that you have prepared for me? Krysia dearest, my friend, my chosen love, tell me whence is all this? Give me your reasons as sincerely, as openly, as I bring before you my reasons and my rights; keep faith with me; do not leave me alone with misfortune. You gave me this right yourself; do not make me an outlaw.”
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