AN UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER.
Kathinka now rarely went out, and never alone. On her way to the
synagogue and upon her little errands of mercy, she was invariably
attended by her devoted Joseph. The very danger to which the girl had
been exposed served to cement their hearts more closely.
For a time, nothing was seen of Loris. One day, however, Joseph and
Kathinka had just left the Rabbi's house.
"Look," whispered Kathinka, pressing Joseph's arm, "he is following us."
Joseph turned rapidly and perceived the form of Loris at some distance
behind them. The Count, seeing that he was observed, turned a corner and
disappeared. For several months after, Kathinka saw nothing more of her
persecutor, and the disagreeable episode gradually faded from her
memory.
One bright afternoon the girl sat at her window, reading. Her father was
engaged in his duties at the school, and her mother had gone from home
to take a bottle of wine to a sick neighbor and would probably remain
away until evening. Kathinka was not alone, however, for she had the
companionship of her books, more congenial entertainers than were the
gossiping maidens of her intimate circle.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door; before she could rise it was
thrown open, and Loris Drentell stood before her. He deliberately closed
the door again and placed his hat and coat upon a chair.
Kathinka could not utter a word, so great was her consternation. Loris
stood facing her for some moments in silence.
"Kathinka," he said, at length, "I have come at the risk of offending
you, to repeat the declaration I made some time ago; to tell you that I
love you. Do you still bear me the ill-will that you evinced towards me
then?"
Kathinka rose from her chair and, drawing herself up to her full height,
pointed to the door.
"Go!" she said, "or I shall summon help."
Loris smiled cynically.
"Do not excite yourself unnecessarily," he said, coolly. "You are alone
in the house. I know it, for I have been watching for some time and saw
both your parents leave. It will be useless for you to call for
assistance. Sit down and hear me out."
Finding resistance useless, the girl fell back into her chair, and with
a gesture of despair hid her face in her hands.
"Miss Winenki," said Loris, quietly at first, but gradually becoming
more passionate in his appeal, "do not judge me harshly for taking this
means of seeing you. I knew of no other way of gaining your ear. I love
you sincerely, madly. For the last two months I have been vainly
struggling with this feeling, have been trying to conquer my
infatuation, but I am ever haunted by the vision of your beauty. Do not
turn from me as though I were unworthy of you. Think not of me as a
cold, selfish man who lives but to satisfy the desires of a moment.
Never had maiden so devoted a lover as I will be to you. I will grant
your every wish, I will bestow upon you wealth and luxury. You shall be
the envied of all the ladies of the land and I will have no other aim
than to make you happy. Can you still doubt me when I, who might win the
proudest in the Empire, now kneel at your feet and ask you to smile upon
me?"
Loris had fallen upon his knees and had seized the girl's hand, which he
lifted passionately to his lips.
Alone with this singular man, who seemed swayed only by his passions,
Kathinka was overcome by a terror which robbed her of the power of
speech. She could only gaze into Loris' upturned face in mute despair.
Drentell interpreted her silence favorably, and with a joyful cry he
arose and folded the astonished girl in his arms.
"You will be mine, you will not reject my love? Turn your eyes upon me
and make me happy with your smile. Do not struggle in my embrace, but
tell me that you love me."
By a violent effort Kathinka succeeded in freeing herself from his
passionate clasp and now stood with her back to the wall. Her black eyes
flashed with an angry fire, as she cried:
"Count Drentell, you have taken advantage of my helplessness to intrude
upon my privacy and have acted, not as befits a gentleman, but in a
manner that one would scarcely expect from the meanest of your father's
serfs. Let us understand one another. In spite of my repulses you still
continue to assert that you love me."
"To desperation," murmured the Count.
"Were I to yield to your entreaties and accept your love, would you make
me your wife? Would you present me to the world as the Countess
Drentell? Answer me, sir!"
Loris hesitated before replying.
"I would surround you with all the luxury and pomp that money could
command. I would make you the happiest of women."
"I demand an unequivocal reply. Would you make me your wife?" insisted
the girl.
"Before God we would be man and wife."
"Count Drentell, would you brave the anger of your father and the
opinion of the entire court and present me, the Jewess, as your wife?"
Loris looked for a moment at the flashing eyes of the indignant girl,
and then his glance sought the floor.
"I do not deny," he said, at length, "that there would be grave
difficulties in the way of such a step. I fear the court would never
recognize a Jewess as the Countess Drentell. But what of that? It is but
an idle formality. Even though the world do not know of our
relationship, we will be none the less man and wife."
"In other words, you would make of me your puppet, your plaything, to be
fondled to-day and cast aside to-morrow! You would have me renounce my
family, my betrothed, my religion, my honor and my reputation, to
become the creature of your pleasures until you weary of me! Vile
wretch! you are a greater villain than I thought. Go, and never again
darken my path with your presence."
Loris uttered a cry of fury. He had counted upon an easy victory over
the poor Jewess, and he saw his wicked dreams rudely disturbed. With one
bound he was by the side of Kathinka and wound his arms about her.
"So you think to brave me, poor fool!" he said, savagely. "You think to
escape me! But I will have you yet; you shall be mine in spite of your
petty scruples. If you will not come to my arms peaceably, I must use
force; but come you shall!"
He clasped the frail girl in both his arms, and lifting her up from the
ground, he bore her towards the door. Anger and despair lent Kathinka
tenfold strength. With a cry for help, she struggled in his embrace and
by a mighty effort freed herself.
Again, Loris, blinded by rage, seized her, and Kathinka, overcome by
terror, uttered a piercing cry and fainted away.
At that moment the door opened and Joseph Kierson entered the room. He
was on his way to Kathinka's house and her cry of terror had lent wings
to his feet. He rushed upon the Count and threw him to the floor. In an
instant the two men were locked in each other's grasp, the hand of each
upon the other's throat.
The contest was almost equal. They were both of powerful physique and
equally courageous and for some minutes the battle raged with varying
success.
Joseph was aware that upon his victory depended the honor of his
betrothed and his own happiness; he believed that if the Count obtained
the mastery, he would not scruple to kill him outright. He exerted all
his strength and freed himself from the powerful clasp of his foe. Then
he struck the Count so violent a blow as to render him senseless.
Joseph paused for breath and for reflection. His first care was to
restore Kathinka to consciousness, and he soon had the satisfaction of
bringing her back to life. With a sigh she opened her eyes and turned
them in gratitude upon her preserver. Then she gazed about her and, as
her glance fell upon the prostrate form of the nobleman, she shuddered
and stretched out her hands to Joseph. The young man helped her to her
feet and led her to a sofa. In a few words she related all that had
occurred previous to Joseph's arrival.
A great difficulty now presented itself; how to dispose of the Count. A
glance showed Kierson that he was not dead, yet it was almost half an
hour before Loris regained his senses and with difficulty rose to his
feet. His face was badly bruised and scratched, one eye being entirely
closed. Kierson humanely went to his assistance, but Loris, with an
oath, declined the proffered aid and moved slowly to the door.
"You shall hear from me again," were his parting words; "my reckoning
will come later on!"
Passing out into the street, he entered the _droshka_ which was in
waiting, and in which he had intended carrying off Kathinka, and was
driven to his home.
The Rabbi on his return was at once informed of the occurrence. While
his daughter related her story, he walked up and down with clenched
fists and heaving breast. He now realized, for the first time, the
terrible danger which threatened his beloved child, and his indignation
against the villain who had molested her found vent in vigorous
language. At the same time he did not close his eyes to the fact that
the rage of the baffled man would spend itself not only upon Kathinka
but upon the whole Jewish population.
"It is not likely," he said, after he had heard the end of the
narrative, "that Drentell will allow the matter to rest. A man who is so
unscrupulous as is this young tyrant, will go to extremes to carry out
his purpose or to take vengeance upon those who have thwarted him. It is
for your safety I fear most, Joseph, and I advise you to absent yourself
from Kief for some time at least, until this affair has been forgotten."
"Never!" cried Joseph, bravely, "I have but done my duty and I will
abide the consequences. To leave Kief would be to abandon the promising
career I have mapped out for myself; besides, Kathinka may again require
my assistance. I shall remain."
"You incur a great risk," admonished the Rabbi.
"I will not seek to escape it by flight, but will remain here and meet
the danger."
Joseph returned to his parents' roof, but in spite of his courage he
felt ill at ease. His parents heard him relate his adventures, and
lifted their hearts in prayer to God to avert the catastrophe which they
felt would in all probability follow the encounter between their boy and
the Governor's son.
Their fears were not unfounded. At eight o'clock that evening there was
a rap at the door of old Kierson's dwelling, and two uniformed officers
confronted the terror-stricken family.
"We seek Joseph Kierson," said one of the soldiers.
"I am he," answered the young man, with as much firmness as he could
command.
"I arrest you in the name of his majesty the Czar," continued the
officer, placing a heavy hand upon the poor lad's shoulder.
"Of what am I accused?" asked Joseph.
"I do not know. Perhaps the warden of the prison can tell you."
Joseph was well aware that resistance would make the matter worse.
Kissing his weeping parents and offering them all the consolation in his
power, he accompanied the officers to the prison, there to await the
action of the Governor.
Within an hour, the whole Jewish community knew the events of the day,
and there were lamentations throughout the quarter, for the blow that
had fallen upon the young man portended disaster to them all.