XII

"See what I received to-day," said Ladislaus, handing Gronski a letter

which came with others in the morning mail.

Gronski glanced at it and knit his brow.

"Ah!" he said, "a death sentence."

"Yes."

"With the seal of the P. P. S. They are distributing them quite

prodigally."

"Yes, just like the opposite party."

"Both are alike. The notary also has one and the doctor several. What

do you think of it?"

"Je m'en fiche! But the situation amuses me. I do not know whether you

have heard that the Provincial guards have unearthed a secret school in

Jastrzeb, which I founded a year ago because my conscience commanded me

to. It is a case which I greased but have not yet greased sufficiently.

As a result, I now have suspended over me the fists of the authorities

and the fists of the socialists. Enjoyable, is it not?"

"It has often occurred to me that elsewhere people could not live under

such conditions, and we not only live but laugh quite merrily."

"For such is our sinewy Lechite nature."

"Perhaps that is so. You must, nevertheless, be on your guard and it

will be necessary to send the ladies away."

"It will be necessary, it will be necessary," repeated Ladislaus. "And

abroad too, for it is unsafe in Warsaw. But please do not say anything

about this foolish sentence to Mother or any one else."

"Certainly."

"Mother positively insists upon my accompanying her, and I do not try

to shun that--oh, no, not in the least! But summer is approaching and

after that there will be the harvest. The overseer is an honest man but

before my departure I must give him some specific instructions how and

what he is to do. After they all leave, I would like to stay yet for a

week or ten days. Mother will not be alone and without care, as in the

first place the younger members of the family will be with her, and

again you heard Cousin Marynia say that the ladies will go wherever

Mother would be. Through all my life I will ever be grateful to Miss

Anney for that proposal; for to Mother nothing could be better or more

agreeable."

"And for her son also, it seems to me," said Gronski, laughing.

Ladislaus remained silent for a time; after which he began to press the

palms of his hands on his temples and replied:

"Yes. For why should I deny that which I confessed to myself and which

everybody sees but Mother, who has not observed it because she seldom

saw us together. But she also has fallen in love with Miss Anney. Who

would not love her? Such a dear, golden creature. I have not, as yet,

said anything to Mother because she has her mind set upon Pani Otocka

and it will be unpleasant for her to give up the thought. I fear she

might be offended. After all, I only know what is taking place within

me, and nothing more. I dare not even say that I have any reasons for

my illusion. I fear that it may all at once burst like a soap-bubble.

Ah! How unhappy I would be. Already I cannot see anything in this world

beyond her. Candidly speaking, I do not know what to do with myself,

Jastrzeb, and life."

And grasping Gronski's hand, he continued:

"If you would only speak with Pani Otocka and ascertain from her

whether I may have hope; for they are friends and certainly do not keep

any secrets from each other. If you would only do this for me; and in

due time speak with Mother! But with Pani Otocka as soon as possible!

Will you do it?"

"I have spoken with Pani Otocka about that," replied Gronski, "but

what, do you suppose, she answered? That she could not tell me anything

as Miss Anney confided to her a certain personal secret which she was

not at liberty to divulge. I admit that this surprised me. In reality,

the secret cannot be anything derogatory to Miss Anney, as otherwise

Pani Otocka would not be on such cordial and intimate terms with her.

They are like sisters, and in Warsaw they lived together, almost door

to door. After all, Pani Otocka, it seemed to me, was sincerely in your

favor and, at times, I received the impression that she was concerned

in having matters come to the pass which they have. As for Marynia, she

wriggles her little ears and with that it ends. In any case, be assured

that you have not enemies in those ladies and, if you want to know my

personal views, much less in Miss Anney."

"Would to God! Would to God!" answered Ladislaus. "You have given me a

little encouragement and I breathe more easily."

"But you, I see, have fallen unto your ears," observed Gronski.

"I give you my word that I prefer one of her fingers or the ray of her

hair to all the women in the world. I never had a conception that one

could thus surrender himself. At times I do not know what is happening

to me or what will occur, for only think: I have Jastrzeb, the estate,

the Rzeslewo affairs, Mother's departure, and here I cannot think of

anything but her--but her--and to nothing else can I apply my mind. I

regret every moment in which I do not gaze upon her. To-day, for

instance, I received a summons from the Directory to come in reference

to the will and Rzeslewo, and I postpone the matter until tomorrow. I

cannot--plainly--I cannot! I would go at night were it not that the

Directory is closed for the night."

"Remember, however, the death sentence."

"May the devil take them with their sentence, or let them finally shoot

me in the head. I would still be thinking of her, especially after what

you have told me. But how do you know that Pani Otocka is in my favor?

Those are honest, golden hearts, both of those cousins! How did you say

it? That they are not my enemies? Thank God, even for that! For, why

should they hate me? But please speak with Pani Otocka again. I am not

concerned about her betraying any secret but only that, knowing Miss

Anney, she should say something one way or the other--you know what I

want--certainty--even though a morsel--"

"Certainly," said Gronski, laughing, "I will seek an opportunity

to-day."

"Thank you! Thank you!"

In fact an opportunity was easily found, as Pani Otocka also had some

news which she desired to impart to Gronski, and with this object she

sent her maid to him with an invitation to meet her on the yoked elm

walk, near the pond. When they met there she gave him, just as

Ladislaus had done a while before, a letter which arrived in the same

morning's mail and said:

"Please read it and advise me what to do with it."

It was a letter from Laskowicz to Marynia and its tenor was as follows:

"A great idea is like a gigantic bird: her wings cast a shadow over the

earth, while she hovers in the sun.

"Whoever does not fly upwards with her is surrounded by darkness.

"And darkness is death.

"In that darkness, I behold Thee, like an alabaster statuette. This

night the sounds of thy music reach me.

"And lo, in my lonely chamber I think of Thee and grieve for Thee.

"For Thou couldst be a beam-feather in the wings of this gigantic bird

idea and inhale the pure air of the dizzy heights and play in glory to

the legions of the living; and Thou breathest the air of tombs and

playest to a life which is moribund and to souls that wither; and not

to people but to ghosts.

"I grieve for Thee, my silvery one.

"And my thoughts fly to Thee like eagles.

"For heretofore there was imbedded in my strength a part of human

happiness but there was not in it my own happiness.

"Now Thou suddenly glidest before my eyes like a light, and through my

ears like music, and hast filled my bosom with a yearning for things I

had not known before, and hast filled me with Thine own indispensable

quintessence and a consciousness of my happiness.

"Therefore I loved Thee the same night when I beheld Thee and heard

Thee for the first time.

"Henceforth, though Thou are not near me, I am with Thee and will

follow wherever Thou wilt be.

"For Thou art necessary to my existence and I am to Thee, in order to

resuscitate Thee.

"In order to snatch Thee from destruction; from amidst those who are

about to die.

"In order to surrender Thee to the great idea, and the exalted, and the

light, and the living hosts who suffer from a dearth of bread and

music.

"Thee and Thy music.

"May extermination not fail upon you both.

"Oh, beloved one.

"A certain night I summoned Thee but Thou didst not hear me and didst

not come. Now I extend my hands towards Thee and say unto Thee: Come

and slumber in my heart.

"And when the time of awakening comes, I will wake Thee for a brief

moment of pleasure, which love gives for the toil without an end and

which the idea demands.

"For toil and perchance for martyrdom.

"But in that martyrdom for the dawn of a new life, there is greater

happiness than in the dusk, mephitic air, ashes and mould of graves.

"Therefore come even for martyrdom.

"And until our existence floats into the sea of nothingness, abide with

me.

"Oh, beloved one."

Gronski's countenance reflected perturbation. For a time he and Pani

Otocka walked in silence.

"What shall I do with this, and what does it mean?"

"This is a disagreeable and vexatious matter, and the letter means that

Laskowicz, who never in his life saw a being like Marynia, has fallen

in love with her from the first acquaintance, as he himself says. I

observed that after a few days and if I did not say anything to you

about it, it was because Laskowicz was soon to leave. But he has fallen

in love with his head and not his heart, for otherwise, instead of

high-flown expressions, borrowed, as it were, from some school of

literature, he would have found simpler and more sincere words. His

exaltation may be sincere, it may waste and destroy him like a fever;

it may last for whole years, but its chief source is the head and not

the heart."

But Pani Otocka, who at the moment was not in the least interested in

an analysis of Laskowicz's feelings, interrupted a further

disquisition:

"But what are we to do, in view of this? How are we to act? It is about

Marynia that I am concerned."

"You are right," answered Gronski. "Pardon my untimely reflections, but

it is always better to know with whom and with what one has to do. My

opinion is that it would be best not to do anything, just as if this

letter had not arrived. You may return it to Laskowicz, but that would

be exceedingly contemptuous: this letter deserves, perhaps, to be

thrown into a fireplace, but in my opinion it does not merit contempt.

It is, if you will permit me to thus express myself, nervous and

insolent, but it preserves a certain measure in its expressions and

there is nothing brutal in it. Besides it expresses rather the thoughts

which came to Laskowicz's mind than any actual hopes, and to that

extent it might be explained to Marynia that this is not a letter to

her but a poem for her, not quite felicitously conceived. And Marynia?

What impression did it make upon her and what does she say?"

"Marynia," answered Pani Otocka with a certain comic uneasiness, "is a

little offended, a little worried and frightened, but in the innermost

recesses of her heart, she is a little proud that somebody should have

written such a letter to her."

"Oh, I was certain of that," exclaimed Gronski, laughing involuntarily.

After a while he began to speak seriously.

"No doubt other letters will come and as these maybe more glaring, we

will have to persuade the little one that she should not read them. If

you will permit, I will undertake that, after which, you ladies ought

to go to Warsaw, and, in a short time, journey abroad and the matter

will end of itself."

"To tell the truth," responded Pani Otocka, "I want to leave Jastrzeb

as soon as possible. We are not necessary for Aunt but are rather a

hindrance in the preparations for her departure, and I confess that I

am possessed by fear. Please read that letter again carefully. Why,

there are threats there against all the residents of Jastrzeb and even

against Marynia if she stays with us."

Gronski thought of Ladislaus receiving at the same time a death

sentence, and in the first moments it occurred to him that it might

have some connection with Laskowicz's letter. But after a while he

recollected that similar sentences were sent to the doctor and even the

aged notary: therefore to pacify Pani Otocka, he said:

"These are times of continual menaces and everybody receives them, but

I do not think that Laskowicz intended to warn Marynia of any imminent

attack threatening us in Jastrzeb. He undoubtedly wished to say that

the waves of socialism will sweep away all who do not float with it,

and therefore us. But as the peace of yourself and Marynia is involved,

as to leaving, why of course! Why should we not leave even to-morrow?"

"I already thought of that, but Aunt urged us to wait for her and

Aninka promised her that."

"Then let her remain, and you ladies leave. Ah, so Miss Anney delays

the departure? Good news for Laudie! May I tell him that? A while ago,

he begged me to learn something from you,--for the poor fellow barely

lives. He is the most love-sick swain within the boundaries of the

Commonwealth."

"So it has gone as far as that?"

"It has! Evidently there is something inflammatory in the atmosphere of

Jastrzeb. Here everybody falls in love, either openly or in secret."

Hearing this, Pani Otocka unexpectedly blushed like a fifteen-year-old

girl, and though this happened often and upon the most trivial

provocation, Gronski being unable to surmise what had passed through

her mind, looked at her with a certain wonder.

"How then?" he said. "There are Laudie, Laskowicz, and Dolhanski. But

Dolhanski has the most energy, for, after his latest repulse, he

immediately decamps upon a new expedition, while Laudie fears."

"What?" asked Pani Otocka, raising her eyes.

"First, a repulse from which he thinks he could not recover, and,

again, a discussion with his mother which awaits him."

"Perhaps something else awaits Cousin Laudie, but he need not fear

about Aninka."

"He will die from joy when I tell him that, but in my way, I, who am

known to you as a meddler, could die from curiosity."

"What of it, when I have no right to speak about it?"

"Not even when we leave Jastrzeb?"

"Not even then. After all, everything will soon clear up."

"In such case, I have procured enough for the nonce, and in the

meanwhile I will return to Laudie to tell him the good news and apprise

him of our departure. I will not mention anything about Laskowicz's

letter, for tomorrow he will set off for the city and, if they met, a

nasty encounter might result."

Whirlpools: A Novel of Modern Poland · 第 24 / 63 题