The only being in that terrible house in whom Johanna and Agneshka, if they had wished to be friendly and kind, might have found compa.s.sion, sympathy, and even protection, was Panna Anulka. But they preferred to torment the poor girl, and gloat over her, for, with the exception of Tekla, that was a family in which each member did all in his or her power to poison the life and increase the misfortune of the others.

But Panna Anulka feared the love of Martsian more than the hatred of his sisters. And he thrust himself more and more on her, pushed himself forward more and more shamelessly, was more and more insistent, and gazed at her more and more greedily. It had become clear that he was ceasing to command himself, that wild desire was tearing him as a whirlwind tears a tree, and that he might give way at any moment.

In fact that moment came soon.

Once, after warm weather had grown settled, Anulka went at daybreak to bathe in the shady river; before undressing she saw Martsian's face on the opposite bank sticking out from thick bushes. That instant she rushed away breathlessly. He pursued her, but trying to spring over the water he failed and fell into it; he was barely able to climb out, and went home drenched to the very last thread of his clothing. Before dinner he had beaten a number of servants till the blood came; during dinner he said not a word to any person. Only at the end of the meal did he turn to his sisters,--

"Leave me alone," said he, "with Panna Anulka; I have to talk with her on matters of importance."

The sisters, on hearing this, looked at each other significantly, and the young lady grew pale from amazement; though he had long tried to seize every moment in which he might be alone with her, he had never let himself ask for such a moment openly.

When the sisters had gone he rose, looked beyond one door and another, to convince himself that no one was listening, then he drew up to Anulka.

"Give me your hand," said he, "and be reconciled."

She drew back both hands unconsciously, and pushed away from him.

Martsian's wish for calmness was evident, but he sprang forward twice on his bow-legs, for he could never abandon that habit, and said, with a voice full of effort,--

"You are unwilling! But to-day I came very near drowning for your sake.

I beg your pardon for that fright, but it was not caused by any bad reason. Mad dogs began yesterday to run between Vyrambki and this mansion, and I took a gun to make sure of your safety."

Anulka's knees trembled under her a little, but she said with good presence of mind and with calmness,--

"I want no protection which would bring only shame to me."

"I should like to defend you, not merely now, but till death and at all times! Not offending G.o.d, but with His blessing. Dost understand me?"

A moment of silence followed this question. Through the open window came the sound of cutting wood, made by an old lame man attached to the kitchen.

"I do not understand."

"Because thou hast no wish to understand," replied Martsian. "Thou seest this long time that I cannot live without thee. Thou art as needful to me as this air is for breathing. To me thou art wonderful, and dear above all things. I cannot exist--without thee I shall burn up and vanish! If I had not restrained myself I should have grabbed thee long ago as a hawk grabs a dove. It grows dry in my throat without thee, as it does without water--everything in me quivers toward thee. I cannot sleep, I cannot live--see here even now--"

And he stopped, for his teeth were chattering as if in a fever. He had a spasm, he caught at the arms of the chair with his bony fingers, as if fearing to fall, and panted some time very loudly. Then he continued,--

"Thou lackest fortune--that is nothing! I have enough. I need not fortune, but thee. Dost thou wish to be mistress in this mansion? Thou wert to marry Pan Gideon; I am not worse, as I think, than Pan Gideon.

But do not say no! do not, by the living G.o.d, do not say it, for I cannot tell what will happen. Thou art wonderful! thou, my--!"

He knelt quickly, embraced her knees with his two hands, and pressed them toward his bosom. But, beyond even her own expectation, Anulka's fear vanished without a trace in that terrible moment. The knightly blood began to act in her; readiness for battle to the last breath was roused in the woman. Her hands pushed back with all force his sweat-covered forehead, which was nestling up toward her knees at that moment.

"No! no! I would rather die a thousand deaths! No!"

He rose up, pallid, his hair erect, his mustache quivering. Beneath the mustache were glittering his long decayed teeth, and for a time he was filled with cold rage as he stood there; but still he controlled himself, still presence of mind did not desert him entirely. But when Anulka pushed toward the door on a sudden, he stopped the way to her.

"Is this true?" inquired he, with a hoa.r.s.e voice. "Thou wilt not have me? Wilt thou repeat that once more to me, to my eyes? Wilt thou not have me?"

"I will not! And do not threaten, for I feel no fear."

"I do not threaten thee, but I want to take thee as wife, nay more, I beg thee bethink thyself! By the living G.o.d, bethink thyself!"

"In what am I to bethink myself? I am free, I have my will, and I say before your eyes: Never!"

He approached her, so nearly that his face pushed up to hers, and he continued,--

"Then perhaps instead of being mistress, thou dost choose to carry wood to the kitchen? Or dost thou not wish it? How will it be, O n.o.ble lady!

To which of thy estates wilt thou go from this mansion? And if thou stay, whose bread wilt thou eat here; on whose kindness wilt thou live?

In whose power wilt thou find thyself? Whose bed, whose chamber is that in which thou art sleeping? What will happen if I command to remove the door fastenings? And dost thou ask in what thou art to bethink thyself?

In this: which thou art to choose!--marriage, or no marriage!"

"Ruffian!" screamed Panna Anulka.

But now happened something unheard of. Seized with sudden fury, Krepetski bellowed with a voice that was not human, and seizing the girl by the hair he began with a certain wild and beastly relish to beat her without mercy or memory. The longer he had mastered himself up to that time, the more did his madness seem wild then, and terrible; at that moment beyond doubt he would have killed the young lady had it not been that to her cries for a.s.sistance servants burst into the chamber.

First that man cutting wood at the kitchen broke in with an axe through the window, after him came kitchen servants, the two sisters, the butler, and two of Pan Gideon's old servitors.

The butler was a n.o.ble from a distant village in Mazovia, moreover, a man of rare strength, though rather aged; he caught Martsian's arms from behind, and drew them so mightily that the elbows almost met at his shoulders.

"This is not permitted, your grace!" exclaimed he. "It is infamous!"

"Let me go!" roared Krepetski.

But the iron hands held him as in vices, and a serious, low voice was heard near his ear,--

"I will break your bones unless you restrain yourself!"

Meanwhile the sisters led, or rather carried the young lady from the chamber.

"Come to the chancellery to rest," said the butler. "I advise your grace earnestly."

And he pushed the man before him as he would a child, while Martsian, with chattering teeth, moved on with his short legs, crying for a halter and the hangman; but he could not resist, for a moment later he had grown so weak all at once, from the outburst, that he was unable even to stand una.s.sisted. So, when the butler in the chancellery threw him on the horse skin with which the bed was covered, Martsian did not even try to rise; he lay there panting with heaving sides, like a horse after over-exertion.

"Something to drink!" shouted he.

The butler opened the door, called a boy, and, whispering some words, gave him keys: the lad returned with a pint gla.s.s and a demijohn of brandy.

The butler filled the gla.s.s to the brim, sniffed at it, and said approaching Martsian,--

"Drink, your grace."

Krepetski seized it with both hands, but they trembled so that liquor dropped on his breast; then the butler raised him, put the gla.s.s to his lips, and inclined it.

He drank and drank, holding the gla.s.s greedily when the butler tried to remove it from his mouth. At last he drank all, and fell backward.

"It may be too much," said the butler, "but you had become very weak when I gave it."

Though Martsian wished to say something, he merely hissed in the air, like a man who has burnt his mouth with too hot a liquid.

"Eh," said the butler, "you owe me a good gift, for I have shown no petty service. G.o.d preserve us, if anything is done--in such an affair it is the axe and the executioner, not to mention this, that misfortune might happen here any minute. The people love that young lady beyond measure. And it will be difficult to hide what has been done from the prelate, though I will tell all to be silent. How do you feel?"