Promptly at four, Ladislaus appeared at Miss Anney's. She received him
feelingly and for a greeting offered both hands which he began to press
alternately to his lips and his forehead. Afterwards they sat beside
each other and for a long time heard only the quickened beating of
their own hearts and the faint sounds of the clock on the writing-desk.
They reciprocally glanced at each other but neither was able to say the
first word. After a while life could glow for them like a new dawn,
glistening with joy and happiness, but, for the time being, it was
heavy, embarrassing, the more embarrassing the longer the silence
continued.
Finally, Ladislaus from a feeling, that, if he kept silent much longer,
he would appear ridiculous, mustered enough courage and spoke in a
broken voice, whose sounds appeared strange to him!
"From this morning I have a little hope--and nevertheless my heart
beats as if I did not have any--I could not say a single word until I
caught my breath--but that is nothing strange as my whole life is
concerned.--Lady, you long ago, of course, surmised how deeply--how
with my whole soul I love you,--you knew this long ago--is it not so?"
Here he again inhaled the air, took a deep breath, and continued:
"To-day in the church I said to myself this: 'If she will hear me, if
she does not spurn me, if she consents to be my own for my whole
life--my wife--then I vow solemnly to God before this altar that I will
love and honor her; that I will never wrong her and will give her all
the happiness which is in my power.' And I swear to you that this is
the truth--It only depends upon you, lady, that it shall be so--upon
your consent--upon your faith in me."
Saying this, he again raised Miss Anney's hands to his lips and
imprinted upon them a long imploring kiss and she leaned towards him so
that her hair lightly brushed his forehead, and quietly replied:
"I consent and believe with my whole soul--but this does not depend
upon me alone."
"Only upon you, lady," exclaimed Ladislaus.
And believing that Miss Anney had his mother in mind, he began to say
with a brightened face and deep joy in his voice:
"My mother desires my happiness above all things and I assure you that
she will come here with me to beg of you; and with me she will thank
you for this great, this ineffable boon, and in the meantime I on my
knees thank--"
He wanted to drop on his knees before her and embrace her limbs with
his arms, but she began to restrain him and say with feverish haste:
"No, no. Do not kneel, sir,--you must first hear me. I consent, but I
must confess things upon which everything depends. Please calm
yourself."
Ladislaus rose, again sat beside her and said, with anxious surprise:
"I listen, my dearest lady."
"And I must compose myself a little," replied Miss Anney.
After which she rose, and approaching the window, pressed her forehead
against the pane.
For some time silence again ensued.
"What is it?" spoke out Krzycki.
Miss Anney withdrew her forehead from the pane. Her countenance was
calmer, but her eyes were dimmed as if with tears. Approaching the
table, she sat down opposite to Ladislaus.
"Before I relate what it is now necessary for me to state," she said,
"I have a great favor to ask of you. And if you--love me truly--then
you will not refuse--"
"Lady, if you demanded my life, I would not refuse it. I pledge you my
word," he exclaimed.
"Very well. Give me your word. Then I will be certain."
"I pledge it in advance and swear upon our future happiness that I will
comply with your every wish."
"Very well," repeated Miss Anney. "Then I first beg of you, by all you
hold most precious, not to feel at all bound by anything you have said
to me just now."
"I not feel bound? In what way? Of course, it may not be binding upon
you, lady--but on me--"
"Well, then, I release you from all obligations and consider that
nothing has been said. You promised me that you would not refuse me
anything, but this is not all."
"Not all?"
"No, I am anxious that after what I shall tell you, you shall not give
me any answer--and for a whole week shall not return to me and shall
not try to see me."
"But in the name of God, what is it?" cried Ladislaus; "why should I
suffer a week of torments? What does this mean?"
"And for me it also will be a torment," she answered in a soft voice.
"But it is necessary, it is imperative. You will have to explain
everything to yourself; weigh everything, unravel and decide
everything--and form a resolution--afterwards you may return or may not
return--and a week for all that will be rather too little."
And perceiving the agitation on Ladislaus' face, she hurriedly added,
as if alarmed:
"Sir, you promised--you pledged me your word!"
Ladislaus drew his hand across the hair of his head; after which he
began to rub his forehead with his palm.
"I gave the word," he said at last, "because you requested it,
lady--but why?"
And Miss Anney turned pale to the eyes; for a while her lips quivered
as though she struggled vainly to draw the words from her bosom, and
only after an interval did she reply:
"Because--atone time I--did not bear the name of Anney."
"You did not bear the name of Anney?"
"I--am--Hanka Skibianka."
Ladislaus rose, staggered like a drunken man, and began to stare at her
with a bewildered look.
And she added in almost a whisper:
"Little master!--'tis I--of the mill."
And tears coursed quietly over her pallid countenance.