The prelate bit a nut in two and showed the second half to Pan Gideon.

"Do you know why this nut pleases me? Because it is good! If it were decayed I would not eat it."

"Then what?"

"Then that Anulka pleases your taste, for she is an almond. Hai! and what an almond! If she were fifty years old it is certain that your conscience would not be so troubled concerning her future."

Pan Gideon was confused at this, but the prelate continued,--

"I do not take this ill of you, for, as you see, there must be a good reason for everything, and G.o.d has so arranged that every man prefers a young turnip to an old one. With wine it is different, therefore we agree willingly as to wine with the arrangement of Providence."

"Yes, it is true. Except wine, what is young is better always; Pan Kohanovski wrote only humorously, that an old man, like an old oak, is better than a young one. This is the one question for me: if I leave property to her as my wife no one will dare move a finger; but if I leave it to her as a ward, there will be many lawsuits and quarrels, and perhaps armed attacks also. Who could protect her from the latter?

Of course not Pani Vinnitski!"

"That is undoubted."

"But since I am neither a giddy nor an empty man, I did not wish to decide this alone, hence I have come to you to confirm me in the conviction that I am acting wisely, and that you will support me with clear counsel."

The prelate thought a while, and then added,--

"You see, that advice in a matter of this kind is difficult, and a man repeats more than once to himself with B[oe]tius, _Si tacuisses, philosophus mansisses_ (if thou remain silent, thou wilt be a philosopher); or with Job, 'Even a fool if he remain silent will be considered a wise man.' Your intention, in so far as it is roused by warm affection, is justified, and in so far also as it flows from care for the good of the girl, is even praiseworthy. But will not some injustice be done her, will there not be need to constrain her, or to lead her with threats to the altar? For I have heard that she and Yatsek Tachevski are in love. And truly, without beating about the bushes, I have more than once seen him a frequent guest at your mansion."

"What have you seen?" inquired Pan Gideon, abruptly.

"Nothing sinful, but signs through which intimacy and love are denoted.

I saw more than once how they held each other's hands longer than was needed, how they followed each other with their eyes. I saw him once in a tree dropping cherries down into her ap.r.o.n, and how they so looked at each other that the cherries fell to the ground past one rim of the ap.r.o.n. I saw her when looking at flying storks lean on him, and then--women are always subtle--scold him for coming too near her. And what more did I see? Various things which prove secret wishes. You will say that this is nothing. Of course, nothing! But that she felt the will of G.o.d toward him as much, or more, than he toward her, only a blind man could help seeing, and I wonder that you did not see this. I wonder still more, if you did see it, that you did not stop it in view of your own intentions."

Pan Gideon had seen and known this, but still the words of the prelate produced on him a terrible impression. It is one thing when some pain-causing secret is hidden in the heart, and quite another when a strange hand pushes into one's bosom and shakes up that secret. So now his face became purple, his eyes filled with blood, a great bunch of veins came out on his forehead, and he began to pant on a sudden, and to breathe so quickly that the prelate, in alarm, asked,--

"What is the matter?"

Pan Gideon answered, with a motion of the hand, that it was nothing, but he remained silent.

"Drink some wine," cried the priest.

He stretched out his arm and with trembling hand took the gla.s.s, raised it to his lips, drank, blew through his lips, and whispered,--

"It darkened before my eyes just a trifle."

"Because of what I told you?"

"No. That for some time has occurred to me often, but now I am fatigued by the fast, by the journey, and by the spring, which is unexpected and early."

"Then perhaps it would be better not to wait for May, but be bled immediately."

"I will be bled, but I will rest a while now, and we will return later on to this business."

A fairly long time pa.s.sed before Pan Gideon recovered completely, but at last he recovered. The veins relaxed on his forehead, his heart began to beat evenly, and he continued,--

"I will not say that strength fails me. Were I to squeeze with my one hand I could crush, as I think, this silver goblet very easily; but though strength and health are both in G.o.d's hand they are not identical."

"Man's life is fragile!"

"But just because of that, if something is to be done there is need to act quickly. You speak, my benefactor, of Pan Yatsek and that affection which the young people might feel for each other. I will say sincerely that I was not blind. I too saw what was happening, but only in recent days did I note it; for remember that till recently she was a green berry, which even now has barely ripened. He came every day, it is true, but because, perhaps, he had not much to eat in his own house; besides, I received him, as it were, through compa.s.sion. Father Voynovski trained him in Latin and at the sabre, and I gave him nourishment. That's the whole story. Only a year ago he reached manhood. I looked on them as children who were thinking of various plays and amus.e.m.e.nts. I considered it an ordinary occurrence. But that such a pauper should dare to think; and, besides, of whom?--of Panna Anulka! That, I confess, never came to my mind, and only in the last hours did I take note of anything."

"Nonsense! A pauper is a pauper, but Tachevski--"

"Of Hungerdeath! No, my benefactor, he who licks a stranger's saucepan should be asked only into dogs' company. When I saw what kind of man he was I looked at him more carefully, and know you what I found? This, that not merely was he a pauper and a giddy head, but a venomous reptile, ever ready to sting the hand feeding him. Thank G.o.d he is gone; but he has stung, not me alone, but that innocent maiden."

"How is that?"

Pan Gideon began to relate how it was, painting with such blackness the deeds of Tachevski that a hangman might have been called in immediately to take him.

"Never fear, my benefactor," said he at last. "During our journey to Prityk the Bukoyemskis poured out in full to Anulka; ah, to the full so completely that it flowed over, and now the situation is such that never will the girl feel such abhorrence for any creature of G.o.d as for that whipper-snapper, that roysterer, that abortion."

"Be moderate, or your blood will boil again."

"True. And I did not wish to speak of him, but of this, that I have not in view any injustice to the girl, or any constraint. Persuasion is another thing, but even that should be used by a stranger, yet by a man who is at the same time her friend and mine,--a man known for wit and dignity, who can use n.o.ble phrases, move the heart and convince the reason. Hence my desire is to beg you, my special benefactor, to see to this. You will not refuse me; you will do this, not merely from friendship, you will do it because it is honorable and proper."

"It is a question of her good and of yours, hence I will not refuse; but I should like to have time to decide how this may be accomplished most easily."

"Then I will go at once to the barber and have myself bled, so as to go home clearer witted,--but do you make your plan. For you that will not be difficult, and on the other side there will be, as I think, no obstacle."

"There can be only one obstacle, lord brother."

"What is it?"

"Friendship should tell the truth, hence I speak freely. You are an honorable person, I know that, but rather stubborn. You have this reputation, and you have it because your dependants all fear you tremendously. Not only the peasants, concerning whom you have quarrelled with Father Voynovski, but your servants, attendants, and managers. Tachevski feared you, Pani Vinnitski fears you, the young lady fears you. Two matchmakers will appear according to custom. I will do what I can, but I will not guarantee that the other may not destroy all my labor."

During one moment Pan Gideon's eyes flashed with anger, for he did not like to have the truth told in his presence; but amazement now conquered his anger, so he asked,--

"Of what are you speaking? What other matchmaker is there?"

"Fear," said the prelate.

CHAPTER XI

They were unable to go that same day to Belchantska, for Pan Gideon weakened considerably after bleeding, and said that some rest was needed. Next morning, however, he felt brighter; he had grown young, as it were, and he approached his own mansion with good hope, though with a certain disquiet. Occupied with his own thoughts entirely, he spoke little along the way with the prelate, but when they were entering the village he felt his disquiet increasing.

"This is a wonder to me," said he. "Ere this time I came home as a man who is master, and all others were concerned about this, with what face would I greet them; while now I am the anxious one, I ask myself how will they greet me."

"Virgil has said," replied the prelate, "'_amor omnia vincit_' (love conquers everything), but he forgot to add, that it changes everything also. This Delilah will not shear your locks, for you are bald, but that I shall see you spinning at her feet, as Hercules spun at the feet of Omphale, is certain."

"Ei! my nature is not of that kind. I have known always how to hold in my fists both servants and household."