In the middle of September such cold days came that the Polanyetskis
moved from Buchynek to their house in the city. Pan Stanislav, before
the arrival of his wife, had the house aired and ornamented with
flowers. It seemed to him, it is true, that he had lost the right to
love her, but he had lost only his former freedom with reference to
her; but perhaps, just because of this, he became far more attentive
and careful. The right to love no one gives, and nothing can take
away. It is another case when a man has fallen, and in presence of
a soul incomparably more noble than his own, feels that he is not
worthy to love; he loves then with humility, and does not dare to call
his feeling by its name. What Pan Stanislav had lost really was his
self-confidence, his commanding ways, and his former unceremoniousness
in his treatment of his wife. At present in his intercourse with her he
bore himself sometimes as if she were Panna Plavitski, and he a suitor
not sure of his fate yet.
Still that uncertainty of his had the aspect of coldness at times.
Finally, their relation, in spite of Pan Stanislav's increased care and
efforts, had become more distant than hitherto. "I have not the right!"
repeated Pan Stanislav, at every more lively movement of his heart. And
Marynia at last observed that they were living now somehow differently,
but she interpreted this to herself variously.
First, there were guests in the house, before whom, be what may,
freedom of life must be diminished; second, that misfortune had
happened to Pan Ignas,--a thing to shock "Stas" and carry his mind
in another direction; and finally Marynia, accustomed now to various
changes in his disposition, had ceased also to attach to them as much
meaning as formerly.
Having gone through long hours of meditation and sadness, she came
at last to the conviction that in the first period, while certain
inequalities and bends of character are not accommodated into one
common line, such various shades and changes in the disposition are
inevitable, though transient. The sober judgment of Pani Bigiel helped
her also to the discovery of this truth; she, on a time when Marynia
began to praise her perfect accord with her husband, said,--
"Ai! it didn't come to that at once. At first we loved each other as
it were more passionately, but we were far less fitted for each other;
sometimes one pulled in one and the other in another direction. But
because we both had honesty and good-will the Lord God saw that and
blessed us. After the first child all went at once in the best way; and
this day I wouldn't give my old husband for all the treasures of earth,
though he is growing heavy, and when I persuade him to Karlsbad he will
not listen to me."
"After the first child," inquired Marynia, with great attention. "Ah! I
would have guessed at once that it was after the first child."
Pani Bigiel began to laugh.
"And how amusing he was when our first boy was born! During the first
days he said nothing at all; he would only raise his spectacles to his
forehead and look at him, as at some wonder from beyond the sea, and
then come to me and kiss my hands."
The hope of a child was also a reason why Marynia did not take this
new change in "Stas" to heart too much. First, she promised herself to
enchant him completely both with the child, which she knew in advance
would be simply phenomenal, and with her own beauty after sickness; and
second, she judged that it was not permitted her to think of herself
now, or even exclusively of "Stas." She was occupied in preparing a
place for the coming guest, as well in the house, as in her affections.
She felt that she must infold such a figure not only in swaddling
clothes, but in love. Hence she accumulated necessary supplies. She
said to herself at once that life for two living together might be
changeable; but for three living together it could not be anything but
happiness and the accomplishment of that expected grace and mercy of
God.
In general, she looked at the future with uncommon cheerfulness. If,
finally, Pan Stanislav was for her in some way a different person, more
ceremonious, as it were, and more distant, he showed such delicacy as
he had never shown before. The care and anxiety which she saw on his
face she referred to his feeling for Pan Ignas, for whose life there
was no fear, it is true, but whose misfortune she felt with a woman's
heart, understanding that it might continue as long as his life lasted.
The knowledge of this gave more than one moment of sadness to her, and
to the Bigiels, and to all to whom Pan Ignas had become near.
Moreover, soon after the arrival of the Polanyetskis in the city, news
came all at once from Ostend which threatened new complications. A
certain morning Svirski burst into the counting-house like a bomb, and,
taking Bigiel and Pan Stanislav to a separate room, said, with a mien
of mysteriousness,--
"Do you know what has happened? Kresovski has just been at my studio,
and he returned yesterday from Ostend. Osnovski has separated from his
wife, and broken Kopovski's bones for him. A fabulous scandal! All
Ostend is talking of nothing else."
Both were silent under the impression of the news; at last Pan
Stanislav said,--
"That had to come sooner or later. Osnovski was blind."
"But I understand nothing," said Bigiel.
"An unheard of history!" continued Svirski. "Who could have supposed
anything like it?"
"What does Kresovski say?"
"He says that Osnovski made an arrangement one day to go with some
Englishmen to Blanckenberg to shoot dolphins. Meanwhile he was late at
the railroad, or tramway. Having an hour's time before him, he went
home again and found Kopovski in his house. You can imagine what he
must have seen, since a man so mild was carried away, and lost his
head to that degree that, without thinking of the scandal, he pounded
Kopovski, so that Kopovski is in bed."
"He was so much in love with his wife that he might have gone mad even,
or killed her," said Bigiel. "What a misfortune for the man!"
"See what women are!" exclaimed Svirski.
Pan Stanislav was silent. Bigiel, who was very sorry for Osnovski,
began to walk back and forth in the room. At last he stopped before
Svirski, and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, said,--
"But still I don't understand anything."
Svirski, not answering directly, said, turning to Pan Stanislav, "You
remember what I said of her in Rome, when I was painting your wife's
portrait? Old Zavilovski called her a crested lark. I understand how
just that was; for a crested lark has another name,--'the soiler.'
What a woman! I knew that she was not of high worth, but I did not
suppose that she could go so far--and with such a man as Kopovski! Now
I see various things more clearly. Kopovski was there all the time,
as if courting Panna Castelli, then as if courting Panna Ratkovski;
and of course he and the lady were in agreement, inventing appearances
together. What a cheery life the fellow had! Castelli for dinner, and
Pani Osnovski for dessert! Pleasant for such a man! Between those
two women there must have been rivalry; one vying with the other in
concessions to attract him to herself. You can understand that in such
a place woman's self-esteem had small value."
"You are perfectly right," said Pan Stanislav. "Pani Osnovski was
always most opposed to the marriage of Kopovski to Castelli; and
very likely for that reason she was so eager to have her marry Pan
Ignas. When, in spite of everything, Kopovski and Castelli came to an
agreement, she went to extremes to keep Kopovski for herself. Their
relation is an old story."
"I begin to understand a little," said Bigiel; "but how sad this is!"
"Sad?" said Svirski; "on the contrary. It was cheerful for Kopovski.
Still, it was not. 'The beginning of evil is pleasant, but the end is
bitter.' There is no reason to envy him. Do you know that Osnovski is
hardly any weaker than I? for, through regard for his wife, he was
afraid of growing fat, and from morning till evening practised every
kind of exercise? Oh, how he loved her! what a kind man he is! and how
sorry I am for him! In him that woman had everything,--heart, property,
a dog's attachment,--and she trampled on everything. Castelli, at
least, was not a wife yet."
"And have they separated really?"
"So really that she has gone. What a position, when a man like Osnovski
left her! In truth, the case is a hard one."
But Bigiel, who liked to take things on the practical side, said, "I am
curious to know what she will do, for all the property is his."
"If he has not killed her on the spot, he will not let her die of
hunger, that is certain; he is not a man of that kind. Kresovski told
me that he remained in Ostend, and that he is going to challenge
Kopovski to a duel. But Kopovski will not rise out of bed for a week.
There will be a duel when he recovers. Pani Bronich and Panna Castelli
have gone away, too, to Paris."
"And the marriage with Kopovski?"
"What do you wish? In view of such open infidelity, it is broken, of
course. Evil does not prosper; they, too, were left in the lurch. Ha!
let them hunt abroad for some Prince Crapulescu[14]--for after what they
have done to Ignas, no one in this country would take Castelli, save a
swindler, or an idiot. Pan Ignas will not return to her."
"I told Pan Stanislav that, too," said Bigiel; "but he answered, 'Who
knows?'"
"Ai!" said Svirski, "do you suppose really?"
"I don't know! I don't know anything!" answered Pan Stanislav, with an
outburst. "I guarantee nothing; I guarantee nobody; I don't guarantee
myself even."
Svirski looked at him with a certain astonishment.
"Ha! maybe that is right," said he, after a while. "If any one had told
me yesterday that the Osnovskis would ever separate, I should have
looked on him as a madman."
And he rose to take farewell; he was in a hurry to work, but wishing to
hear more about the catastrophe of the Osnovskis, had engaged to dine
with Kresovski. Bigiel and Pan Stanislav remained alone.
"Evil must always pay the penalty," said Bigiel, after some thought.
"But do you know what sets me thinking? that the moral level is
lowering among us. Take such persons as Bronich, Castelli, Pani
Osnovski,--how dishonest they are! how spoiled! and, in addition,
how stupid! What a mixture, deuce knows of what! what boundless
pretensions! and with those pretensions the nature of a waiting-maid.
So that it brings nausea to think of them, does it not? And men, such
as Ignas and Osnovski, must pay for them."
"And that logic is not understood," answered Pan Stanislav, gloomily.
Bigiel began to walk up and down in the room again, clicking his tongue
and shaking his head; all at once he stopped before Pan Stanislav with
a radiant face, and, slapping him on the shoulder, said,--
"Well, my old man, thou and I can say to ourselves that we drew great
prizes in life's lottery. We were not saints either; but perhaps the
Lord God gave us luck because we have not undermined other men's houses
like bandits."
Pan Stanislav gave no answer; he merely made ready to go.
Conditions had so arranged themselves lately that everything which
took place around him, and everything which he heard, became, as it
were, a saw, which was tearing his nerves. In addition, he had the
feeling that that was not only terribly torturing and painful, but was
beginning to be ridiculous also. At moments it came to his head to take
Marynia and hide with her somewhere in some tumbledown village, if
only far away from that insufferable comedy of life which was growing
viler and viler. But he saw that he could not do that, even for this
reason,--that Marynia's condition hindered it. He stopped, however,
the bargaining for Buchynek, which had been almost finished, so as to
find for himself a more distant and less accessible summer place. In
general, relations with people began to weigh on him greatly; but he
felt that he was in the vortex, and could not get out of it. Sometimes
the former man rose in him, full of energy and freshness, and he asked
himself with wonder, "What the devil! why does a fault which thousands
of men commit daily, swell up in my case beyond every measure?" But the
sense of truth answered straightway that as in medicine there are no
diseases, only patients, so in the moral world there are no offences,
only offenders. What one man bears easily, another pays for with his
life; and he tried in vain to defend himself. For a man of principles,
for a man who, barely half a year before, had married such a woman as
Marynia, for a man whom fatherhood was awaiting, his offence was beyond
measure; and it was so inexcusable, so unheard of, that at times he
was amazed that he could have committed it. Now, while returning home
under the impression of Osnovski's misfortune, and turning it over in
his head in every way, he had again the feeling as if a part of the
responsibility for what had happened weighed on him. "For I," said
he to himself, "am a shareholder in that factory in which are formed
such relations and such women as Castelli or Pani Osnovski." Then it
occurred to him that Bigiel was right in saying that the moral level
was lowering, and that the general state of mind which does not exclude
the possibility of such acts is simply dangerous. For he understood
that all these deviations flowed neither from exceptional misfortunes,
nor uncommon passions, nor over-turbulent natures, but from social
wantonness, and that the name of such deviations is legion. "See,"
thought he, "only in the circle of my acquaintances, Pani Mashko, Pani
Osnovski, Panna Castelli; and over against them whom shall I place?
My Marynia alone." And at that moment it did not occur to him that,
besides Marynia, there were in his circle Pani Emilia, Pani Bigiel,
Panna Helena, and Panna Ratkovski. But Marynia stood out before him
on that ground of corruption and frivolity so unlike them, so pure
and reliable, that he was moved to the depth of his soul by the mere
thought of her. "That is another world; that is another kind," thought
he. For a moment he remembered that Osnovski, too, had called his own
wife an exception; but he rejected this evil thought immediately.
"Osnovski deceived himself, but I do not deceive myself." And he felt
that the skepticism which would not yield before Marynia would be not
only stupid, but pitiable. In her there was simply no place for evil.
Only swamp birds can sit in a swamp. He himself had said once in a
jest to her, that if she wore heels, she would have inflammation of
the conscience from remorse, because she was deceiving people. And
there was truth in this jest; he saw her now just there before him as
clearly as one always sees the person one thinks of with concentrated
feeling. He saw her changed form and changed face, in which there
remained always, however, that same shapely mouth, a little too wide,
and those same clear eyes; and he was more and more moved. "Indeed, I
did win a great prize in life's lottery," thought he; "but I did not
know how to value it. 'Evil must always pay the penalty,' said Bigiel."
And Pan Stanislav, to whom a similar thought had come more than once,
felt now a superstitious fear before it. "There is," thought he, "a
certain logic, in virtue of which evil returns, like a wave hurled
from the shore, so that evil must return to me." And all at once it
seemed to him perfectly impossible that he could possess such a woman
in peace, and such happiness. Just in that was lacking the logic which
commands the return of the wave of evil. And then what? Marynia may die
at childbirth, for instance. Pani Mashko, through revenge, may say some
word about him, which will stick in Marynia's mind, and in view of her
condition, will emerge afterward in the form of a fever. Not even the
whole truth is needed for that effect. On the contrary, Pani Mashko may
boast even that she resisted his attempts. "And who knows," said Pan
Stanislav to himself, "if Pani Mashko is not making a visit to Marynia
this moment? in such an event the first conversation about men--and a
few jesting words are sufficient."
Thinking thus, he felt that the cap was burning on his head; and he
reached home with a feeling of alarm. At home he did not find Pani
Mashko; but Marynia gave him a card from Panna Helena, asking him to
come after dinner to see her.
"I fear that Ignas is worse," said Marynia.
"No; I ran in there for a moment in the morning. Panna Helena was
at some conference with the attorney, Kononovich; but I saw Panna
Ratkovski and Pan Ignas. He was perfectly well, and spoke to me
joyously."
At dinner Pan Stanislav resolved to tell Marynia of the news which he
had heard, for he knew that it could not be concealed from her anyhow,
and he did not wish that it should be brought to her too suddenly and
incautiously.
When she asked what was to be heard in the counting-house and the city,
he said,--
"Nothing new in the counting-house; but in the city they are talking
about certain misunderstandings between the Osnovskis."
"Between the Osnovskis?"
"Yes; something has happened in Ostend. Likely the cause of all is
Kopovski."
Marynia flushed from curiosity, and asked,--
"What dost thou say, Stas?"
"I say what I heard. Thou wilt remember my remarks on the evening of
Pan Ignas's betrothal? It seems that I was right; I will say, in brief,
that there was a certain history, and, in general, that it was bad."
"But thou hast said that Kopovski is the betrothed of Panna Castelli."
"He has been, but he is not now. Everything may be broken in their
case."
The news made a great impression on Marynia; she wanted to inquire
further, but when Pan Stanislav told her that he knew nothing more, and
that in all likelihood more detailed news would come in some days, she
fell to lamenting the fate of Osnovski, whom she had always liked much,
and was indignant at Pani Aneta.
"I thought," said she, "that he would change her, and attract her by
his love; but she is not worthy of him, and Pan Svirski is right in
what he says about women."
The conversation was interrupted by Plavitski, who, after an early
dinner at the restaurant, had come to tell the "great news,"
which he had just heard, for all the city was talking of it. Pan
Stanislav thought then that he had done well to prepare Marynia,
for in Plavitski's narrative the affair took on colors which were
too glaring. Plavitski mentioned, it is true, in the course of his
story, "principles and matrons" of the old time; but apparently he was
satisfied that something of such rousing interest had happened, and
evidently he took the affair, too, from the comic side, for at the end
he said,--
"But she is a mettlesome woman! she is a frolicker! Whoever was before
her was an opponent! She let no man pass, no man! Poor Osnosio! but she
let _no man_ pass."
Here he raised his brows, and looked at Marynia and Pan Stanislav, as
if wishing to see whether they understood what "no man" meant. But on
Marynia's face disgust was depicted.
"Fe! Stas," said she, "how all that is not only dishonorable, but
disgusting!"
FOOTNOTES:
[14] A fanciful Roumanian name formed from the French _crapule_, a
debauchee.