Whirlpools: A Novel of Modern Poland Part 52

On the other side, though somewhat behind, walked a young man with a yellowish beard, who, leaning towards Marynia, appeared to speak to her in an earnest and vehement manner. She hastened her steps, turning her head aside, evidently not desiring to listen to him, while he, keeping pace with her, gesticulated violently.

"My G.o.d! Some one is molesting her!" said the doctor.

And all three rushed at full speed towards her.

"Who is that? Who are you, sir?"

And Marynia, seeing Gronski, seized his arm and trembling all over, began to cry:

"Home! Take me home, sir!"

Gronski understood in a moment that nothing else could be done and that it was necessary to hurry, as otherwise Marynia might be embroiled in a vulgar street row. He was certain that Ladislaus in whom was acc.u.mulated an enormous supply of spleen and irritation, with his impulsive nature, would not permit the offence of the a.s.sailant to pa.s.s unpunished. So taking the girl aside, he placed her as soon as possible in a hackney-coach, which was pa.s.sing by and ordered the coachman to drive to Pani Otocka's house.

"There is nothing now. Everything is all right," he said on the way, to pacify the affrighted Marynia. "From home we will send a message that there will be no rehearsal to-day, and with that it will end. It is nothing, nothing."

And he began to press her hand; after a while, he asked:

"But who was that and what did he want?"

"Pan Laskowicz," answered Marynia. "I did not recognize him at first, but he told me who he was."

Gronski became distressed when he heard the name of the student, for it occurred to him that if the encounter with Ladislaus ended with the police, then the consequences for Laskowicz might prove fatal directly.

But not desiring to betray his uneasiness before Marynia, and at the same time wishing to better quiet her, he spoke to her half jokingly:

"So that was Laskowicz? Then I already know what he wanted. Ah!

Ah!--Some one begins to play not only on the violin but on the soul.--Only why did you allow yourself to be so frightened?"

"For he also threatened," answered Marynia. "He threatened all terribly--"

"Such bugbears only children fear."

"True! Especially as I am to play for the hungry; they will not do any wrong to me or any of us."

"a.s.suredly not," confirmed Gronski.

Conversing thus, they reached home. Gronski surrendered Marynia to Pani Otocka's care and when, after a moment, Hanka appeared, he related to them everything which had occurred. He likewise had to quiet Pani Otocka, who, knowing of the letters, took the whole occurrence very much to heart and announced that immediately after the concert they would leave for Zalesin, and afterwards go abroad. After the lapse of a half hour he left and on the stairs met Ladislaus.

"G.o.d be praised," he said, "I see that it did not end with the police.

Do you know that the man was Laskowicz?"

"And it seemed so to me," said Ladislaus with animation; "but this one had light hair. How is Marynia?"

"She was frightened a little but now is well. Both ladies are at her side and dandle her like a little chicken. They are so occupied with her that Pani Otocka certainly will not receive you."

"And I thought so; especially, if she is there," answered Ladislaus, with bitterness; "so I will only leave my card and will return at once.

Do you care to wait for me?"

"Very well."

Accordingly, he returned after a while, and when they were on the street, he began to say:

"Yes! and to me it seemed that he was Laskowicz but I was puzzled by the light tuft of hair on his head and the spectacles. After all there was no time for thinking."

"Listen--you undoubtedly cudgelled him?" asked Gronski.

And Ladislaus answered reluctantly:

"Far too much, for he is an emaciated creature, and he evidently did not have a revolver."

For some time they walked in silence; after which Gronski said:

"Your mother needs a cure; the ladies will depart from here immediately after the concert and Miss Anney undoubtedly with them. I would advise you also to think about yourself."

Ladislaus waved his hand.

At the same time in a garret in the quarters of the "female a.s.sociate,"

Laskowicz said to Pauly:

"Pan Krzycki is a true gentleman. He battered me a while ago because I dared to approach her."

And he began to laugh through his set teeth.

XIV

The day of the concert arrived. On the sofa in the sisters'

dressing-room lay, ready at an early hour, Marynia's evening dress, white as snow, light as foam, transparent as the mist, and fragrant with violets which were to form her sole adornment. Previously, Pani Otocka and Gronski held a long and grave consultation over that dress, for both craved warmly that their beloved "divinity" should captivate not only the ears but the eyes. In the meanwhile the "divinity" bustled about all the rooms, now seizing the violin and repeating the more difficult pa.s.sages, now taking the boxes of bon-bons which Gronski had sent to her; then joking with her sister and predicting fright at her first public appearance. This fright also possessed Pani Otocka who consoled herself only with the thought that Marynia indeed would tremble upon entering on the stage, but from the moment she began to play would forget everything. She knew also that a warm ovation awaited the beloved violinist, likewise numerous baskets of flowers, from the "Committee for aiding the hungry," and from acquaintances.

Notwithstanding their uneasiness both sisters felt a great joy in their souls, as the concert, owing to the arrivals during the racing season, promised to be highly successful, and it was already known that the receipts would be extraordinary. Marynia besides found a cure for her fright: "When I think," she said to her sister, "that so many eyes will gaze at me, my heart is in my mouth, but when I recollect that I am not concerned but only the poor, then I cease to fear. So I will save myself in this manner: entering upon the stage, I will repeat quietly, ''Tis for the poor! 'tis for the poor!' and everything will come off in the best possible way!" And when she spoke, her voice quivered with honest emotion as her young heart felt deeply the woes of the unfortunate who did not have any bread, and at the same time she felt proud and happy at the thought that she would be instrumental in their relief. She even experienced certain pangs of conscience on account of the new dress and the new satin shoes, as it occurred to her that this outlay might have been expended for bread.

About noon Hanka came and took both sisters to her apartments for breakfast. Gronski, who was invited, did not appear, as at that time he was to meet a few journalists. Marynia took her violin with her with the intention of playing after the breakfast the first part of the programme, and in the meanwhile, waiting before they were seated at table, she began to look out from Hanka's salon through the open window on the street.

The day was fair and clear. During the night an abundant rain had fallen which settled the dust, washed the city's stone pavements, refreshed the gra.s.s plots, and laved the leaves on the trees. The air became fresh and bracing. From the two acacias, growing under the windows of Hanka's residence, which strewed the walk near them with petals white as snow, came a sweet scent, strong and intoxicating as if from a censer. Marynia partly closed her eyes and, moving her delicate nostrils, sated herself with the perfume with delight, after which she turned to the depth of the room.

"It smells so sweet," she said.

"It does, little kitten," answered Hanka, interrupting a conversation with Pani Otocka. "I purposely ordered the window to be opened."

And the acacias not only smelt sweet but seemed to sing, for both were c.u.mbered by a countless diet of sparrows so that the leaves and flowers quivered from their chirping.

The maiden watched for some time with delighted eyes the small, nimble birds; after which her attention was directed to something entirely different. On the walk before the house, in the middle of the street and on the sidewalk on the opposite side, there began to gather and stand cl.u.s.ters of people who, raising their heads, gazed intently at the windows of Hanka's residence.

Some wretchedly dressed people spoke with the doorkeeper standing at the gate, evidently questioning him about something. The cl.u.s.ters each moment became more numerous and, together with the pa.s.sers-by, who remained out of curiosity, changed into a mob of several hundred heads.

Marynia jumped back from the window.

"Look," she cried, "what is taking place on the street. Oh! oh! Perhaps they are the poor coming to thank me in advance? What shall I do if they come here? what shall I answer? I am not able.--Come, see!"

And saying this, she drew her sister and Hanka to the window. The three young heads leaned out of the window on to the street, but in that moment an incomprehensible thing happened. A ragged stripling pulled out of his pocket a stone and hurled it with all his strength into the open window. The stone flew over Pani Otocka's head, rebounded on the opposite wall, and fell with noise upon the floor. Hanka, Marynia, and Zosia drew back from the window and began to look at each other with inquiring and startled eyes.