A few days later Augustinovich was sitting in Yosef's lodgings; he was
working vigorously in view of the approaching examination. Loving effect
in all things, he had shaded the windows, and in the middle of the room
had placed a table, before which he was standing at that moment.
Evidently he was occupied with some experiment, for on the table was a
multitude of old glass vessels and pots full of powders and fluids, and
in the centre was burning a spirit lamp, which surrounded with a blue
flame the stupid head of a retort which was quivering under the
influence of boiling liquid contained in it.
Work burned, as they said, in the hands of Augustinovich; no one could
labor so quickly as he. With a glad smile on his face he moved really
with enthusiasm, frequently entertaining himself with a song or a
dialogue with the first vessel he took up, or with a pious remark on the
fleeting nature of this world.
Sometimes he left his work for a moment, and raising his eyes and his
hands declaimed in tones which were very tragic,--
"Ah, Eurydice! before thy beauty
I passed the rounds of success,
And the sentence of Delphi was undoubted,
That on earth I am the only one blest."
Then again in a hundred trills and cadences he sang,--
"O piano! piano!--Zitto! pia-ha-ha-no!"
Or similar creations of his own mind on a sudden,--
"And if thou fill a pipe, O Youth,
And pressing the bowl with thy finger, put fire on it."
"By Mohammed! If Yosef should come, this work would go on more quickly;
but he is marrying Helena at present--Ei! and as innocence is dear to
me, I would fix it this way! Dear Helena, permit--And what farther? Oh,
the farther the better--"
All at once some one pulled the bell.
Augustinovich turned toward the door and extending his hand intoned,--
"Road-weary traveller,
Cross thou my threshold."
The door opened; a man young and elegantly dressed entered the room.
Augustinovich did not know him.
The most important notable trait of the newly arrived was a velvet
sack-coat and light-colored trousers; besides, he was washed, shaven,
and combed. His face was neither stupid nor clever, neither beautiful
nor ugly, neither kind nor malicious, moreover he was neither tall nor
of low stature. His nose, mouth, chin, and forehead were medium; special
marks he had none.
"Does Pan Yosef Shvarts live here?"
"It is certain that he lives here."
"Is it possible to see him?"
"It is possible at this time; but in the night, when it is very dark,
the case is different."
The newly arrived began to lose patience; but Augustinovich's face
expressed rather gladness than malice.
"The owner of this house sent me to Pan Yosef as to a man who knows the
address and the fate of Countess Leocadia N----. Could you give me some
explanations as to her?"
"Oh yes, she is very nice!"
"That is not the question."
"Just that, indeed. Were I to answer that she is as ugly as night,
would you be curious to make her acquaintance? No, no, by the prophet!"
"My name is Pelski; I am her cousin."
"Oh, I am not her cousin at all!"
The newly arrived frowned.
"Either you do not understand me, or you are trifling."
"Not at all, though Pani Visberg always insists that I am--But you are
not acquainted with Pani Visberg. She is an excellent woman. She is
distinguished by this, that she has a daughter, though it is nothing
great to have a daughter; but she is as rich as Jupiter!"
"Sir!"
"Now I hear steps on the stairs,--Pan Yosef is coming surely. I will lay
a wager with you that he is coming--"
Indeed, the door opened and Yosef walked in. One would have said that
his severe and intelligent face had matured in the last few hours; in
its expression was the calm energy of a man who had already decided on
the means of advance in the future.
"This is Pan Pelski, Yosef," said Augustinovich.
Yosef looked at the newly arrived inquiringly.
Meanwhile Pelski explained to him the object of his coming; and though
at news of the relationship of the young man to Lula his forehead
wrinkled slightly, he gave him her address without hesitation.
"I take farewell of you," said Yosef, at last; "the countess will be
greatly delighted to find in you a cousin, but it is a pity that she
could not have found a relative two months ago."
Pelski muttered something unintelligible. Evidently Yosef's figure and
style of intercourse imposed on him no little.
"Why give him Lula's address?" asked Augustinovich.
"Because I should have acted ridiculously had I refused."
"But I did not give it."
"What didst thou tell him?"
"A thousand things except the address. I did not know whether thou
wouldst be satisfied if I gave it."
"He would have found the address anyhow."
"Oh, it will be pleasant at Pani Visberg's. Wilt thou go there to-day?"
"No."
"And to-morrow?"
"No."
"But when?"
"Never."
"It is no trick, old man, to flee before danger."
"I am no knight errant, I am not Don Quixote, I choose rather to avoid
dangers and conquer than choose them and fall. Not Middle-Age boasting
commands me, but reason."
A moment of silence followed.
"Wert thou at Helena's yesterday?" asked Augustinovich.
"I was."
"When will the marriage be?"
"Right away after I receive my degree."
"Maybe it is better for thee that the affair ends thus."
"Why dost thou say that?"
"I do not know but thou wilt be angry; but Lula--now, I do not believe
her--"
Yosef's eyes gleamed with a wonderful light; he put his hand on
Augustinovich's shoulder.
"Say nothing bad of her," said he, with emphasis.
He wished, indeed, that the countess, torn from him by the force of
circumstances, should remain in his mind unblemished. He took pleasure
in thinking of her.
"What am I to tell her when she asks about thee?" inquired
Augustinovich, after a short silence.
"Tell her the truth, tell her that I am going to marry another."
"Ei, old man, I will tell her something else."
"Why?" asked Yosef, looking him in the eyes.
"Oh, so!"
"Speak clearly."
"She seems to love thee."
Yosef's face flushed; he knew Lula's feeling, but that information from
the lips of another startled him. It filled his breast with sweetness
and as it were with despair together with the sweetness.
"Who told thee that?" asked he.
"Malinka; she tells me everything."
"Then tell Lula that I marry another from inclination and duty."
"Amen!" concluded Augustinovich.
* * * * *
In the evening he went to Pani Visberg's; Malinka opened the door to
him.
"Oh, is this you?" said she, with a blush.
Augustinovich seized her hands and kissed them repeatedly.
"Oh, Pan Adam! that is not permitted, not permitted," insisted the
blushing girl.
"It is, it is!" answered he, in a tone of deep conviction. "But--but,"
continued he, removing his overcoat and buttoning his gloves (he was
dressed with uncommon elegance), "was some young man here this
afternoon?"
"He was; he will come in the evening."
"So much the better."
Augustinovich went into the drawing-room with Malinka. The drawing-room
had somehow a look of importance, as if for the reception of a notable
guest. On the table a double lamp was burning, the piano was open.
"Why did Pan Yosef not come with you?"
"The same question from the countess will meet me. In every case permit
me to defer my answer till she asks."
The countess did not keep them waiting long. She entered, dressed in
black, with simply a few pearls in her hair.
"But Pan Yosef?" asked she at once.
"He is not coming."
"Why?"
"He is occupied. Building his future."
The countess was wounded by the thought that Yosef would not come.
"But do you not help him in that labor?" asked she.
"May my guardian angel keep me from such work."
"It must be very difficult."
"Like every new building."
"Why does he work so?"
"Duty."
"I believe that Pan Yosef builds everything on that foundation."
"This time it will be more difficult for him than ever before. But
somebody is coming--that is your cousin. What a splendid man!"
Pan Pelski entered the drawing-room; soon after came Pani Visberg also.
After the greetings conversation began to circle about in the ocean of
commonplace.
Augustinovich took little part in it. He sat in an armchair, partly
closed his eyes with an expression of indifference toward everything. He
had the habit of closing his eyes while making observations, when
nothing escaped his notice.
Count Pelski (we had forgotten to state that he had that title) sat near
Lula, twirling in his fingers the string of his eyeglasses, and
conversing with her vivaciously.
"Till I came to Kieff," said he, "I knew nothing of the misfortune
which had met our whole family, but especially you, through the death of
your esteemed father."
"Did you know my father?" asked Lula, with a sigh.
"No, cousin. I knew only that unfortunate quarrels and lawsuits
separated our families for a number of years. I knew nothing of those
quarrels, since I was young and always absent, and if I am to make a
confession my present visit was undertaken only as an attempt at
reconciliation."
"What was the degree of relationship between you and my father?"
"Reared abroad, I know little of our family relations in general; for
example, I am indebted to a lucky chance for discovering not our
relationship, of which I was aware, but other intimate bonds connecting
our families from of old."
"Is it permitted to inquire about this circumstance?"
"With pleasure, cousin. Having taken on me, after the death of my
father, the management of my property and family affairs, I looked into
the papers and various documents touching my family. Well, in these
documents I discovered that your family is not only related to the
Pelskis, but has the same escutcheon."
"To a certain extent, then, we are to thank chance for our
acquaintance."
"I bless this chance, cousin."
Lula dropped her eyes, her small hand twisted the end of her scarf;
after a while she raised her head.
"And for me it is equally pleasant," said she.
The shadow of a smile flew over Augustinovich's face.
"I had much difficulty in finding your lodgings. This gentleman" (Pelski
indicated Augustinovich with one eye) "has a marvellous method of giving
answers. Fortunately his room-mate came; he gave me an answer at last."
"I lived in the same house as they," added the countess.
"How did you become acquainted with them, cousin?"
"When father fell ill, Pan Shvarts watched him in his last hours;
afterward he found Pani Visberg, and I am much indebted to him."
Augustinovich's closed eyelids opened a little, and the sneering
expression vanished from his face.
"Is he a doctor?" asked Pelski.
"He will be a doctor soon."
Pelski meditated a moment.
"I was acquainted in Heidelberg with a professor and writer of the same
name. From what family is this man?"
"Oh, I do not know, indeed," answered the countess, blushing deeply.
Augustinovich's eyes opened to their full width, and with an
indescribable expression of malice he turned toward the countess.
"I thought," said he, "that you knew perfectly whence Pan Yosef came,
and what his family is."
Lula's confusion reached the highest degree.
"I--do not remember," groaned she.
"Do you not? Then I will remind you. Pan Yosef was born in Zvinogrodets,
where his father in his day was a blacksmith."
Pelski looked at his cousin, and bending toward her said with
sympathy,--
"I am pained, cousin, at the fatality which forced you to live with
people of a different sphere."
Lula sighed.
Oh, evil, evil was that sigh. Lula knew that among those people of a
different sphere she had found aid, protection, and kindness; that for
this reason they should be for her something more than that cousin of
recent acquaintance. But she was ashamed to tell him this, and she
remained silent, a little angry and a little grieved.
Meanwhile Pani Visberg invited her guests to tea. Lula ran for a while
to her own chamber, and sitting on her bed covered her face with her
hands. At that moment she was in Yosef's chamber mentally. "He is
toiling there," thought she, "and here they speak of him as of some one
strange to me. Why did that other say that he was the son of a
blacksmith?"
It seemed to her as if they were wronging Yosef, but she felt offended
at him, too, because he was the son of a blacksmith.
At tea she sat near her cousin, a little thoughtful, a little sad,
turning unquiet glances toward Augustinovich, who from the moment of his
malicious interference filled her with a certain fear.
"Indeed thou art not thyself, Lula," said Pani Visberg, placing her hand
on the girl's heated forehead.
Malinka, who was standing with the teapot in her hand, pouring tea in
the light, stopped the yellowish stream, and turning her head said with
a smile,--
"Lula is only serious. I find thee, Lula, in black colors--art thou in
love?"
The countess understood Malinka's idea, but she was not confused.
"Black is the color of mourning; in every case it is my color."
"And beautiful as thy word, cousin," added Pelski.
After tea she seated herself at the piano, and from behind the
music-rack could be seen her shapely forehead marked with regular brows.
She played a certain melancholy mazurka of Chopin, but trouble and
disquiet did not leave her face.
Augustinovich knew music, and from her playing he divined the condition
of her mind. Still he thought,--
"She is sad, therefore she plays; but she plays because her cousin is
listening."
But on the way home he thought more about Lula and Yosef than one might
have expected from his frivolous nature.
"Oh, Satan take it, what will happen, what will happen?" muttered he.
In the midst of these thoughts he entered his lodgings. Yosef was not
sleeping yet; he was sitting leaning on his elbows over some book.
"Hast thou been at Pani Visberg's?"
"I have."
Impatience and curiosity were quivering in Yosef's face; evidently he
wished to ask about the evening, but on thinking the matter over he
rested his head on his hands again, and began to read.
Suddenly he threw the book aside and walked a couple of times through
the room.
"Thou wert at Pani Visberg's?"
"I was."
"Ha!"
"Well, what?"
"Nothing."
He sat down to his book again.