Pan Michael Part 28

"I see now, as on my palm, that he was inclined to Krysia. See, I knew that he liked her greatly and sought her company; but that he was so lost in her never came to my head."

"It must be that he returned with a proposition ready, in which he saw his own happiness; meanwhile a thunderbolt, as it were, fell."

"Why did he speak of this to no one, neither to me, nor to you, nor to Krysia herself? Maybe the girl would not have made her vow."

"It is a wonderful thing," said Zagloba; "besides, he confides in me, and trusts my head more than his own; and not merely has he not acknowledged this affection to me, but even said once that it was friendship, nothing more."

"He was always secretive."

"Then though you are his sister, you don't know him. His heart is like the eyes of a sole, on top. I have never met a more outspoken man; but I admit that he has acted differently this time. Are you sure that he said nothing to Krysia?"

"G.o.d of power! Krysia is mistress of her own will, for my husband as guardian has said to her, 'If the man is worthy and of honorable blood, you may overlook his property.' If Michael had spoken to her before his departure, she would have answered yes or no, and he would have known what to look for."

"True, because this has struck him unexpectedly. Now give your woman's wit to this business."

"What is wit here? Help is needed."

"Let him take Basia."

"But if, as is evident, he prefers that one--Ha! if this had only come into my head."

"It is a pity that it did not."

"How could it when it did not enter the head of such a Solomon as you?"

"And how do you know that?"

"You advised Ketling."

"I? G.o.d is my witness, I advised no man. I said that he was inclined to her, and it was true; I said that he was a worthy cavalier, for that was and is true; but I leave match-making to women. My lady, as things are, half the Commonwealth is resting on my head. Have I even time to think of anything but public affairs? Often I have not a minute to put a spoonful of food in my mouth."

"Advise us this time, for G.o.d's mercy! All around I hear only this, that there is no head beyond yours."

"People are talking of this head of mine without ceasing; they might rest awhile. As to counsels, there are two: either let Michael take Basia, or let Krysia change her intention; an intention is not a vow."

Now Pan Makovetski came in; his wife told him everything straightway.

The n.o.ble was greatly grieved, for he loved Pan Michael uncommonly and valued him; but for the time he could think out nothing.

"If Krysia will be obstinate," said he, rubbing his forehead, "how can you use even arguments in such an affair?"

"Krysia will be obstinate!" said Pani Makovetski. "Krysia has always been that way."

"What was in Michael's head that he did not make sure before departing?" asked Pan Makovetski. "As he left matters, something worse might have happened; another might have won the girl's heart in his absence."

"In that case, she would not have chosen the cloister at once," said Pani Makovetski. "However, she is free."

"True!" answered Makovetski.

But already it was dawning in Zagloba's head. If the secret of Krysia and Pan Michael had been known to him, all would have been clear to him at once; but without that knowledge it was really hard to understand anything. Still, the quick wit of the man began to break through the mist, and to divine the real reason and intention of Krysia and the despair of Pan Michael. After a while he felt sure that Ketling was involved in what had happened. His supposition lacked only certainty; he determined, therefore, to go to Michael and examine him more closely. On the road alarm seized him, for he thought thus to himself,--

"There is much of my work in this. I wanted to quaff mead at the wedding of Basia and Michael; but I am not sure that instead of mead, I have not provided sour beer, for now Michael will return to his former decision, and imitating Krysia, will put on the habit."

Here a chill came on Zagloba; so he hastened his steps, and in a moment was in Pan Michael's room. The little knight was pacing up and down like a wild beast in a cage. His forehead was terribly wrinkled, his eyes gla.s.sy; he was suffering dreadfully. Seeing Zagloba, he stopped on a sudden before him, and placing his hands on his breast, cried,--

"Tell me the meaning of all this!"

"Michael!" said Zagloba, "consider how many girls enter convents each year; it is a common thing. Some go in spite of their parents, trusting that the Lord Jesus will be on their side; but what wonder in this case, when the girl is free?"

"There is no longer any secret!" cried Pan Michael. "She is not free, for she promised me her love and hand before I left here."

"Ha!" said Zagloba; "I did not know that."

"It is true," repeated the little knight.

"Maybe she will listen to persuasion."

"She cares for me no longer; she would not see me," cried Pan Michael, with deep sorrow. "I hastened hither day and night, and she does not even want to see me. What have I done? What sins are weighing on me that the anger of G.o.d pursues me; that the wind drives me like a withered leaf? One is dead; another is going to the cloister. G.o.d Himself took both from me; it is clear that I am accursed. There is mercy for every man, there is love for every man, except me alone."

Zagloba trembled in his soul, lest the little knight, carried away by sorrow, might begin to blaspheme again, as once he blasphemed after the death of a.n.u.sia; therefore, to turn his mind in another direction, he called out, "Michael, do not doubt that there is mercy upon you also; and besides, you cannot know what is waiting for you to-morrow. Perhaps that same Krysia, remembering your loneliness, will change her intention and keep her word to you. Secondly, listen to me, Michael. Is not this a consolation that G.o.d Himself, our Merciful Father, takes those doves from you, and not a man walking upon the earth? Tell me yourself if this is not better?"

In answer the little knight's mustaches began to tremble terribly; the noise of gritting came from his teeth, and he cried with a suppressed and broken voice, "If it were a living man! Ha! Should such a man be found, I would-- Vengeance would remain."

"But as it is, prayer remains," said Zagloba. "Hear me, old friend; no man will give you better counsel. Maybe G.o.d Himself will change everything yet for the better. I myself--you know--wished another for you; but seeing your pain, I suffer together with you, and together with you will pray to G.o.d to comfort you, and incline the heart of that harsh lady to you again."

When he had said this, Zagloba began to wipe away tears; they were tears of sincere friendship and sorrow. Had it been in the power of the old man, he would have undone at that moment everything that he had done to set Krysia aside, and would have been the first to cast her into Pan Michael's arms.

"Listen," said he, after a while; "speak once more with Krysia; take your lament to her, your unendurable pain, and may G.o.d bless you! The heart in her must be of stone if she does not take pity on you; but I hope that she will. The habit is a praiseworthy thing, but not when made of injustice to others. Tell her that. You will see-- Ei, Michael, to-day you are weeping, and to-morrow perhaps we shall be drinking at the betrothal. I am sure that will be the outcome. The young lady grew lonely, and therefore the habit came to her head. She will go to a cloister, but to one in which you will be ringing for the christening.

Perhaps too she is affected a little with hypochondria, and mentioned the habit only to throw dust in our eyes. In every case, you have not heard of the cloister from her own lips, and if G.o.d grants, you will not. Ha, I have it! You agreed on a secret; she did not wish to betray it, and is throwing a blind in our eyes. As true as life, nothing else but woman's cunning."

Zagloba's words acted like balsam on the suffering heart of Pan Michael: hope entered him again; his eyes were filled with tears. For a long time he could not speak; but when he had restrained his tears he threw himself into the arms of his friend and said, "But will it be as you say?"

"I would bend the heavens for you. It will be as I say! Do you remember that I have ever been a false prophet? Do you not trust in my experience and wit?"

"You cannot even imagine how I love that lady. Not that I have forgotten the beloved dead one; I pray for her every day. But to this one my heart has grown fixed like fungus to a tree; she is my love.

What have I thought of her away off there in the gra.s.ses, morning and evening and midday! At last I began to talk to myself, since I had no confidant. As G.o.d is dear to me, when I had to chase after the horde in the reeds, I was thinking of her when rushing at full speed."

"I believe it. From weeping for a certain maiden in my youth one of my eyes flowed out, and what of it did not flow out was covered with a cataract."

"Do not wonder; I came here, the breath barely in my body; the first word I hear,--the cloister. But still I have trust in persuasion and in her heart and her word. How did you state it? 'A habit is good'--but made of what?"

"But not when made of injustice to others."

"Splendidly said! How is it that I have never been able to make maxims?

In the stanitsa it would have been a ready amus.e.m.e.nt. Alarm sits in me continually, but you have given me consolation. I agreed with her, it is true, that the affair should remain a secret; therefore it is likely that the maiden might speak of the habit only for appearance' sake. You brought forward another splendid argument, but I cannot remember it.

You have given me great consolation."

"Then come to me, or give command to bring the decanter to this place.

It is good after the journey."