Whirlpools: A Novel of Modern Poland Part 48

"Ha I we will keep house in Jastrzeb and will do all we can. There is much work to be done there and of the kind for which I am fitted. To be a good husbandman, to be good to the people, to instruct them; to teach, love, and enlighten; to be also a good citizen of the country and in case of necessity to die for it--for this, I give my word I am fit. Yes, it is so. And now you have me. But taking everything together, no evil will befall you with me, Ha.n.u.sia,--I love you too much for any evil to befall you. Only, my golden one, my love, my rosy lady, do not command me to sit on the ladder, for that I cannot do."

His simplicity and sincerity propitiated Hanka. The thought of a joint life in Jastrzeb, of loving the folks whose child she was, of instructing them, of laboring over and for them, cheered and allured her more powerfully than anything else could do. To return to Poland and take charge of a Polish village was the plan which she formulated immediately after the death of the Anney family. And now just such a horizon was opened to her by this former "young lord" whom she loved while yet a simple girl. Therefore she was grateful to him: she was ready in her soul to exalt his good qualities, to exculpate his faults, to love him, and to persevere faithfully at his side, but in exchange she wanted nothing more than that he should love her not only with his senses, but with a true and chaste love, and that he should regard her above all things as his life companion, "for better or for worse."

And, for that reason, whenever there came to her moments in which it seemed to her that he saw in her princ.i.p.ally an object for his desires and was unable to find, in himself strength to struggle with them and elevate his feelings to n.o.ble heights, doubt seized her heart and she could not resist the thought that he was not such as she would wish him to be.

"But nevertheless," she consoled herself in her soul, "that is a sincere and true nature, and where there is sincerity and truth, everything may be brought to light."

Ladislaus on the contrary was in reality sincere to the degree that one could see through him--through and through, as though he were made of gla.s.s. The proof of this was the opinion which Dr. Szremski expressed about him in a conversation with Gronski.

"To me," he said, "the present-day Hanka Skibianka is ten times more interesting than the former Miss Anney, and I wish her happiness from my whole soul. But if she bases that happiness upon the feeling which Krzycki entertains for her, I fear that she will be disappointed. I do not wish to say anything bad of him. On the contrary, to me he is a sympathetic type, for he is immensely ours, immensely domestic. If he had lived a hundred years ago and been a Uhlan, he would have charged at Samo-Sierra no worse than Kozietulski and Niegolewski. Only he belongs to that species of men for whom it is easier to die for some idea or for some feeling than to live for them and to persevere in them. To turn to one idea or to one feeling, as a magnetic needle turns to the north, is not within their power nor their concern. They require distraction, amus.e.m.e.nt. And there is nothing strange in this. Consider only that for entire ages n.o.body was better off than the various Krzyckis and Gronskis--n.o.body. So they sucked of the pleasures of life, like juice of grapes. They ate, drank, played, dissipated--bah! they even fought for the pleasure of it. They were not vicious nor terrible, for a happy man cannot be totally vicious. They had in their hearts a certain feeling of humanity. They were indulgent to people who were subject to them, but above all things they were indulgent to themselves. Hence at the bottom of the Polish soul always lies indulgence. Then came the time of penance and that indulgence by right of inheritance, particularly in the spheres to which Krzycki belongs, remains. For him, neither love for woman nor for fatherland will suffice. He will love them and, in a given case, will perish for them, but in life he will indulge himself. And you see, sir, that it was just for this reason that I said that such as he will not rebuild Society."

"And who will?" asked Gronski.

"The future generations--not the pot-bellied, not the easy-natured, not the chatterboxes, not the indulgers in sensual delights and the pleasures of life--no--apparently they are good for everything and fit for nothing--but only the hardy, the persistent, the quiet, and the practical. For them, misfortune and slavery have tilled the ground for a hundred years."

"And the present day manures the ground," said Gronski, "only it is a pity that this manure has such a rank smell."

"That is not manure; that is sand blown from abroad which renders the soil sterile," replied the doctor with energy.

And he began to curse.

IX

Dolhanski, however, completely subdued his fiancee and his future mother-in-law, inasmuch as he prevailed upon them to call personally upon Hanka and invite her to the wedding. They were prompted to this by the consideration that at any rate it behooved them to preserve the outward semblance of good relations with their future neighbors from Jastrzeb, and they were persuaded in particular by the news, which he brought from the high spheres, that "high life" was reconciled to the idea of admitting Hanka into its fold, while he, on the other hand, wanted to see her at a close range in the church. After their visit, during which the mother and daughter, under the watchful eye of Dolhanski, acted not only properly but quite amiably, Pani Krzycki revoked her resolution, of not attending the nuptial rites.

These took place early in the week at the Church of the Order of Visitation in the presence of a great concourse of dames from the "grand world" and Dolhanski's t.i.tled colleagues from the club. In this the desire to take a close view of the peasant-millionairess played as important a part as the wish to see Dolhanski. Those of his acquaintances who knew the ladies from Gorek had previously stated that he was taking a lady of wealth, but old and ludicrous; in consequence of which these good colleagues wanted to see what kind of mien he would have, so that they might afterwards have a subject for their gibes and jests. But in this respect they met with the most complete disappointment. Dolhanski, escorted on one side by Gronski, on the other by Count Gil, walked through the church with such self-confidence, such sangfroid, and with such a smile on his lips, as though he had the right and desire to jeer at his colleagues. The tall and gaunt young lady did not, after all, look so badly in her lace wedding dress. She had too much powder on her face; her veil was too long, and too much did she "tremble like a leaf," which created an impression that this leaf did that a little purposely.

There was nothing in her, however, to excite ridicule, and, when the two knelt before the altar, the dames and beaux, looking from the depth of the church, had to admit that in her slender white form there was some charm. But the eyes of those present were directed princ.i.p.ally at Hanka who glided through the nave on Ladislaus' arm, like a light spring cloud. To the gentlemen of the club it seemed that from the moment of her entrance the church grew brighter. Count Gil, who found himself near her, behind the stalls, later stated in a certain salon that a rosy warmth radiated from her. Others at once corroborated this and to the mot of a dame that in order to find favor in men's eyes it was necessary that one must not only be a woman but also a radiator, they replied that it was absolutely necessary.

In the meanwhile they envied Ladislaus Mr. Anney's millions and Hanka, who so absorbed to herself the general attention that Pani Otocka and Marynia pa.s.sed by almost un.o.bserved. Neither appeared to the best advantage that day. In Pani Otocka, Dolhanski's marriage aroused a certain disgust, which was reflected in her countenance, and Marynia opened her lips too widely out of curiosity, and besides, her bared arms were so thin and, as usual with immature girls, were so red that, they could only excite compa.s.sion. The ladies of the "grand world,"

besides, did not look at one or the other for the further reason that Ladislaus, with his stature and visage of a Uhlan of the time of the Duchy of Warsaw, became the focus upon which the rays of their tortoise-sh.e.l.l lorgnettes were converged.

With the appearance of the priest silence fell and the rites began. The lorgnettes were now directed towards the altar. In the distance could be seen floating under the orange blossoms the bridal veil and Dolhanski's head, somewhat bald at the summit, over which crept the reflexes of the candles flickering in the dusk. Krzycki, bending towards Hanka, began to whisper: "And we will soon--" and she dropped her eyelids in sign of a.s.sent; after which when their eyes met, she blushed violently and raised her lace handkerchief to her lips, and later fixed her gaze upon the altar, for she recalled to her mind how, not long before, the candles flickered in the same manner in the Church of the Holy Cross, when together they prayed for their future happiness. Yes, soon they would kneel there again in order not to be separated for life, and this thought, so full of sweetness and at the same time of uneasiness of feeling, expanded her breast.

In the meanwhile in the silence could be heard the voice of the priest: "Edward, do you take Kajetana, whom you see before you, for wife?" and when Dolhanski firmly confirmed this and Kajetana mumbled that she wanted this Edward, their hands were bound by the stole and the rites rapidly approached an end; then the hymeneal party left the church. The bridal couple were to leave for a tour abroad within two hours, but before that in the dining-hall of the hotel a dinner awaited them, to which, of the relatives of the groom, only Pani Krzycki, Ladislaus, Hanka, as his betrothed, and the sisters were invited; of the more distant, Gronski and Count Gil, as groomsmen attended. The dinner with the inevitable toasts did not last long; after it the newly-married pair repaired to their separate apartments and after a certain time reappeared attired in their travelling clothes. Then began the usual bustle preceding a journey; trunks, small luggage, and bright travelling paraphernalia were hauled out. Dolhanski during the dinner and these last moments displayed such sangfroid and such phlegm that all the lords of England might envy him. Without the least haste he conversed with the gentlemen; he expressed his regrets to Marynia that he could not be at the concert; to Pani Otocka he said that he owed to her in a great measure his happiness of that day; and afterwards intrusted Gorek to the neighborly care of Krzycki, and bantered with Gronski, trying to persuade him to follow in his footsteps.

This superb calmness of his contrasted strangely with the uneasiness and distraction of the bride. For a half hour before the departure and immediately after donning her travelling robe, she began to stare at her mother with an inquiring look as if awaiting from her something which was overlooked or forgotten and which under no circ.u.mstances ought to be overlooked. This continued so long that it attracted general attention, and when Pani Wlocek did not appear to understand the inquiring look, Kajetana beckoned her for a confidential talk in a room adjoining the dining-hall.

To the ears of the guests there began to reach for a quarter of an hour some alarming though m.u.f.fled cries of, "Ah!" and "Oh!" and after an interval the bride entered with her eyes covered by her palms. But after a while she dropped her hands alongside her dress and gazing at Dolhanski with the look of an antelope at a lion, she asked in an almost inaudible voice:

"Edward, perhaps it is already time?"

Gronski, Krzycki, and Count Gil bit their lips, while Dolhanski glanced at his watch and said:

"We have yet five minutes."

X

The cloudlets looming between Hanka and Ladislaus began by degrees to be transformed into clouds. At times they ceased to mutually understand each other. Hanka was more and more disturbed by the thought whether Ladislaus, notwithstanding his good heart and his ability to appreciate everything which is exalted and n.o.ble, was not a weak character, that in a moment of sudden impulse or pa.s.sionate ecstasy is unable to resist and cannot muster within himself sufficient strength, even though his own worth is involved, and at this thought she was oppressed by a deep sorrow. But she was yet more painfully nettled on another side of the matter. This was that she arrived at the conviction that his feelings towards her were better, purer and, as it were, more shy at the time when he thought that she was Miss Anney. She remembered various moments, both in Jastrzeb and in Warsaw, in which she was certain that this burning flame of love, which glowed in his heart, was at the same time a sacrificial flame of esteem. And now when she had told him that she is the former Hanka that pure fire has changed into an ignition of the senses. Why? Was the cause of this their former sin; was it that she was a peasant? In the answer to those questions lay the pain, for Hanka felt that whatever happened was the result of these causes.

But she was mistaken in thinking that Ladislaus did not understand that just for these two reasons he ought to act directly contrary, in order to efface in her the memory of sin and to raise her in her own eyes and to respect her as his future wife. He understood this quite clearly, and often it happened that after parting from her he upbraided himself, not mincing words, and in his soul made a solemn promise of reformation. But as in his easy life he had not accustomed himself to contend with anything and, above all, with himself, therefore this lasted but a short time--as long only as he was away from her, as long as he was not enveloped by the warmth emanating from her; only when he was not absorbed with her eyes; did not feel her hand in his own, and did not intoxicate himself with her feminine attractions. Then reason blinded in him and darkened; he became the slave of blood, full of sophisms, the agent of senses, and the recollection of the former Hanka, instead of repressing the temptation, only increased it the more.

Under such conditions, sooner or later, the storm had to break above the heads of both and create desolation. Accordingly it burst sooner than Krzycki could have foreseen.

One day, coming at the twilight hour to Hanka, he found her in a strange and unusual condition. She was agitated, her countenance was suffused with blushes, her eyes were red, and the hand which she tendered to him, palpably trembled. At the beginning she did not want to tell him what was the matter, but when they sat beside each other, he began to beg of her that she would not make anything a secret with him, but to tell him what occurred, not only as a fiance, but as her best friend.

Hanka was always conciliated by an appeal to friendship. Therefore after a while she said, smiling sadly:

"I was not concerned about any secret but I preferred to keep to myself an unpleasantness. Did you, sir, ever notice my servant, Pauly?"

(Hanka from a certain time addressed her fiance as "sir," believing that in this manner she would hold him more easily at a proper distance.)

"Pauly?" repeated Ladislaus, and though, after all, he thus far had done nothing with which to reproach himself, a sudden disquiet arose in him. "Pauly? Why of course! Why, she was at Jastrzeb and I saw her here everyday. What happened?"

"She created for me a horribly disagreeable scene and has left me."

"Why?"

"That is just what I do not know. She always was very violent and nervous, but very honest. So I was attached to her and I thought that she would be attached to me. But for some time I have observed in her something like a dislike to me, with each day greater. Really, I never was harsh to her; even the contrary. So I attributed everything to the nerves. In the meantime, to-day, it came to an outburst and it is so disagreeable to me! so disagreeable!"

Hanka's voice faltered, and it could be seen that she felt the whole occurrence deeply. So Ladislaus pressed her hand to his lips and asked with sympathy:

"What kind of outburst was it?"

"This afternoon, or rather after Marynia's return from the rehearsal, we were to ride up town with Zosia. So, desiring to change my dress, I ordered her to hand it to me. Pauly went after it as usual and brought it, but suddenly she threw it upon the ground and began to trample upon it, and in addition screamed in a loud, shrill voice that she would serve me no longer. At first I was stupefied, for it occurred to me that she had become insane."

"She surely is insane!" interrupted Ladislaus; "but what further?"

"She slammed the door and left. I did not see her any more. About an hour later somebody came for her things and wages."

Here Hanka began to shake her head.

"And nevertheless when I recall her dislike and what she told me in the last moments, I do not think that it was an attack of insanity; it was only an outburst of hatred, which she could no longer restrain in herself. And for me this is such a disappointment, such a disappointment!"

"My lady--Ha.n.u.s," said Ladislaus, seizing both of her hands, "is it worth while to take to heart the deed of a foolish vixen? For she is a foolish vixen--nothing more. It is enough to look at her. Calm yourself, Ha.n.u.s,--this is only a momentary matter which it is necessary to forget as soon as possible. Remember who you are and who she is!

Such times have come that everything is turned topsy-turvy. Such occurrences now take place everywhere. But they will pa.s.s away. In the meantime we two have so many reasons for joy that in view of them such wretched smarts ought to disappear."

And he began to press alternately her hands to his lips and to his breast and gaze in her eyes, but this increased her grief; for Hanka desiring to spare unnecessary disagreeableness to her betrothed and herself did not confess everything to him. She was particularly reticent about this, that the infuriated servant, on leaving, screamed at her in her eyes, "You base peasant. You ought to serve me, not I you! Your place is with cows, not in the palace!" Perhaps Hanka might not have taken these words so much to heart were it not for the previous friction in her relations with Ladislaus, and were it not for the thought that he transgressed certain bounds perhaps because she was his former sweetheart and a peasant. But just this reason caused the thorn to be imbedded in her heart more deeply and bred in her a fear as to future life in which similar scenes might be repeated more frequently.

So, also, his words about the happiness awaiting them were only drops overflowing the cup of bitterness, and his caresses affected the aggrieved girl like a child, who the more she is consoled the more disconsolate she becomes. There came to her a moment of weakness and exhaustion. The usual strength deserted her, her nerves were unstrung, and she began to sob, but feeling at the same time ashamed of her tears she buried her face in his breast.

"Ha.n.u.s, my Ha.n.u.s!" repeated Ladislaus.

And he began to kiss her light hair. Afterwards clasping her temples with his palms, he raised her tear-stained face and kissed off her tears. She did not defend herself; so after a while he sought with his mouth her quivering lips.