Children of the Soil

“I have, I have! But what will you say of that?”

“A misfortune.”

“A misfortune; but this too, that there are no principles at present. All those new ideas, those atheisms of yours, and hypnotisms, and socialisms. The young generation have no principles, – that is where the trouble lies.”

CHAPTER LIX

Pan Stanislav, under the impression of the catastrophe, forgot utterly his promise to inform Osnovski by letter how Pan Ignas had borne the rupture of the marriage and the departure of Lineta. But Osnovski, having learned from the newspapers what had happened, inquired every day by telegraph about the condition of the patient, and was greatly alarmed. In the press and in public the most contradictory accounts were current. Some journals declared that his condition was hopeless; others predicted a speedy recovery. For a long time Pan Stanislav could report nothing certain; and only after two weeks did he send a despatch that the sick man had ceased to waver between death and life, and that the doctors guaranteed his recovery.

Osnovski answered with a long letter, in which he gave various news from Ostend, —

“God reward you for good news! All danger has passed then decisively? I cannot tell you what a weight fell from the hearts of both of us. Tell Pan Ignas that not only I, but my wife received the news of his recovery with tears. She does not speak of any one else now, and thinks only of him. Oh, what women are! volumes might be written on this subject; but Anetka is an exception, and will you believe, that in spite of all her terror and sorrow and sympathy, Ignas has increased in her eyes through this unhappy event? They seek romantic sides always; so far does this reach that even in Kopovski, as the originator of the misfortune, Anetka, who knows all his stupidity, sees now something demonic. But beyond all she praises God for the recovery of Ignas. May he live to the glory of our society, and may he find a being worthy of him! From your despatch, I infer that he is under the care of Panna Helena. May God grant her too every blessing for such an honest heart! Really she has no one in the world nearer to her than Ignas, and I imagine that he is still dearer to her through remembrance of Ploshovski.

“Now, since you have quieted me as to Ignas’s recovery, I can send you some news about Aunt Bronich and Lineta. Perhaps you have heard that they are here with Kopovski. They went first to Scheveningen; but, hearing that the small-pox was there, they escaped to Ostend, not supposing that we were here. We met a number of times in the Cursaal, but pretended not to know them. Kopovski even left cards with us; but we did not return his visit, though, as my wife says justly, he is far less to blame in all this than the two women. When I received your despatch, stating that Ignas is saved surely, I thought that humanity itself commanded me to send the news to them, and I did so. As matters stand, life is unpleasant for them here, since their acquaintances withdraw; so I wished them to know at least that they have no human life on their consciences, all the more since Lineta, as it would seem, felt the deed of Ignas. In fact, they called the same day on us, and my wife received them. She says truly that evil is moral sickness, and that we should not desert relatives in sickness. In general, this first meeting was awkward and painful for both sides. Of Ignas we said not a word. Kopovski appears here as Lineta’s betrothed; but they do not seem very happy, though, to tell the truth, she is better fitted for him than for Ignas, and in that view at least what has happened may be considered God’s work. I know also from persons aside that Aunt Bronich mentions it as such. I need not tell you how that abuse of the name of God angers me. I know that she tried to talk into some acquaintances stopping here that she and her niece broke with Ignas because of his want of religious feelings; to others she told tales of his despotism and of his disagreement in temper with Lineta. In all this she deceives not only the world, but herself. Aunt, through persuading herself and others of it unceasingly, believes at last in the lofty character of Lineta, and in this too she is immensely disappointed. She feels bound really to defend her; she invents God knows what in her behalf, and struggles like a mad woman; but a feeling of disappointment sticks in her, and I think that she grieves over it, for she has grown very thin. Evidently they value relations with us, which, as they hope, may bring them back to society; but though my wife received them, our relations cannot return to their former condition, of course. I, first of all, could not permit this, from regard to my duty of choosing a proper society for my wife. Lineta’s marriage with Kopovski is to be in Paris two months from now. Of course we shall not be present. Moreover, my wife looks on the marriage very skeptically. I have written thus at length hoping to oblige you to write as much, with all details about Ignas. If his health permits, press his hand for me, and tell him that he has and will have in me a most cordial friend, who is devoted heart and soul to him.”

Marynia, notwithstanding the lateness of the season, was living yet in Buchynek; so that Pan Stanislav, when he received this letter in the counting-house, showed it first of all to the Bigiels, with whom he dined.

“I am glad of one thing,” said Pani Bigiel, when she had finished the letter; “she will marry that Kopovski right away. Otherwise I should be afraid that something might spring up again in Ignas, and that after he had recovered he might be ready to return to her.”

“No; Pan Ignas has much character, and I think that he would not return in any case,” said Bigiel. “What is thy thought, Stas?”

Bigiel was so accustomed to ask the opinion of his partner in every question, that he could not get on without it in this one.

“I think that they, when they look around on what they have done, will be rather ready to return. As to Ignas, I have lived so many years, and seen so many improbable things, that I will not answer for any one.”

At that moment these words occurred again to Pan Stanislav: “I know what she is, but I cannot tear my soul from her.”

“But wouldst thou return in his place?” inquired Bigiel.

“I think not; but I will not answer for myself even. First of all, I shouldn’t have shot myself in the forehead; but still, I don’t know even that.”

And he said this with great discouragement, for he thought that if there was any man who had no right to answer for himself it was he.

But Pani Bigiel began, —

“I would give I do not know what to see Ignas; but really it is easier to take a fortress than to go to him. And I cannot understand why Panna Helena keeps him from people so, even from such friends as we are.”

“She keeps him from people because the doctor has ordered absolute quiet. Besides, since he has regained consciousness, the sight of his nearest friends, even, is terribly painful to him; and this we can understand. He cannot talk with them about his deed; and he sees that every one who approaches him is thinking of nothing else.”

“But you are there every day.”

“They admit me because I was connected with the affair from the beginning; I was the first to report the rupture of the marriage, and I watched him.”

“Does he mention that girl yet?”

“I asked Panna Helena and Panna Ratkovski about this; they answered, ‘Never.’ I have sat for hours with him alone, and have heard nothing. It is wonderful: he is conscious; he knows that he is wounded, knows that he is sick; but he seems at the same time to remember nothing of past events, just as if the past had no existence whatever. The doctors say that wounds in the head cause various and very peculiar phenomena of this kind. For the rest, he recognizes every one who approaches him, exhibits immense gratitude to Panna Helena and Panna Ratkovski. He loves Panna Ratkovski especially, and evidently yearns for her when she goes for a while from him. But they are both, as God lives! – there are no words to tell how good they are.”

“Panna Ratkovski moves me especially,” said Pani Bigiel.

Bigiel put in, “Meditating over everything carefully, I have come to the conclusion that she must have fallen in love with him.”

“Thou hast spent time for nothing in meditating,” answered Pan Stanislav, “for that is as clear as the sun. The poor thing hid this feeling in herself till misfortune came. Why did she reject such an offer as Svirski’s? I make no secret of this, for Svirski himself tells it on every side. It seems to him that he owes her satisfaction because he suspected her of being in love with Kopovski. When Pan Ignas shot himself, she was living with her relative, Pani Melnitski, after the Osnovskis had gone; but when she learned that Panna Helena had taken Ignas, she went and begged permission to remain with her. All know perfectly how to understand this; but she does not mind such considerations, just as Panna Helena herself does not mind them.”

Here Pan Stanislav turned to Pani Bigiel, —

“Panna Ratkovski moves you deeply; but think, as God lives, what a tragic figure Panna Helena is. Pan Ignas is alive, at least, but Ploshovski aimed better; and, according to her ideas, there is no mercy for him, even in that world. But she loves him. There is a position! Finally, after such a suicide, comes another; it tears open all wounds, freshens every memory. Panna Ratkovski may be a touching figure; but the other has her life broken forever, and no hope, nothing left but despair.”

“True, true! But she must be attached to Ignas, since she cares for him so.”

“I understand why she does it; she wants to beg of the Lord God mercy for the other man, because she has saved Pan Ignas.”

“That may be,” said Bigiel. “And who knows that Pan Ignas may not marry Panna Ratkovski, when he recovers?”

“If he forgets that other, if he is not broken, and if he recovers.”

“How, if he recovers? Just now thou hast said that his recovery is undoubted.”

“It is undoubted that he will live; but the question is, will he be the former Ignas? Even though he had not fired into his head, it would be difficult to say whether such an experience would not break a man who is so sensitive. But add a broken head; that must be paid for. Who knows what will happen further? but now, for example, though he is conscious, though he talks with sense, at times he breaks off, and cannot recollect the simplest expression. Before, he never hesitated. This, too, is strange, – he remembers the names of things well, but when it is a question of any act, he stops most generally, and either remembers with effort, or forgets altogether.”

“What does the doctor say?”

“In God is his hope that it will pass; the doctor does not lose hope. But even yesterday, while I was going in, Ignas said, ‘Pani – ’ and stopped. Evidently he was thinking of Marynia, whom he recalled on a sudden, but he could not ask about her. Every day he talks more, it is true; but before he recovers, much time may pass, and certain traces may remain forever.”

“But does Marynia know of everything?”

“While there was no certainty that he would live, I kept everything in secret; but after that I thought it better to tell her. Of course I was very cautious. It was hard to keep the whole matter from her longer. People were talking too much about it, and I feared that she might hear from people on one side. I told her, moreover, that the wound was slight, and that nothing threatened him, but that the doctors forbade him visitors. Even thus she was greatly affected.”

“When will you bring her to the city?”

“While the weather is good, I prefer to keep her in the country.”

Further conversation was interrupted by a letter, which the servant gave Pan Stanislav. The letter was from Mashko, and contained the following words: —

“I wish to see thee in thy own interest. I will wait for thee at my house till five.”

“I am curious to know what he wants,” said Pan Stanislav.

“Who is it?”

“Mashko; he wants to see me.”

“Business and business,” said Bigiel; “he has business above his ears. Sometimes I wonder really whence he gets endurance and wit for all this. Dost thou know that Pani Kraslavski has come home, and that she has lost her sight altogether? She sees nothing now, or what is called nothing. We visited those ladies before they left their country house. Wherever one turns there is misery, so that at last pity seizes one while looking.”

“But in misfortune each man or woman shows his or her real nature,” said Pani Bigiel. “You remember that we considered Pani Mashko as somewhat dry in character, but you will not believe how kind she is now to her mother. She does not let a servant come near her; she attends her herself everywhere, waits on her, reads to her. Really she has given me a pleasant surprise, or rather both of them, for Path Kraslavski has lost her former pretentiousness thoroughly. It is pleasant to see how those women love each other. It seems that there was something in Pani Mashko which we could not discover.”

“Both, too, were terribly indignant at the behavior of Panna Castelli,” added Bigiel. “Pani Kraslavski said to us, ‘If my Terka had acted in that way, I should have denied her, though I am blind, and need care.’ But Pani Mashko is as she is, and she would not have acted in that way, for she is another kind of woman.”

Pan Stanislav drank his cup of black coffee, and began to take farewell. For some time past every conversation about Pani Mashko had become for the man unendurable; it seemed to him, moreover, that he was listening again to an extract from that strange human comedy which people were playing around him, and in which he, too, was playing his empty part. It did not occur to him that human nature is so composed that even in the very worst person some good element may be found, and that Pani Mashko might be, after all, a loving daughter. In general, he preferred not to think of that, but began to halt over the question, what could Mashko want of him? Forgetting that Mashko had written in the letter that he wanted to see him, not in his own, but in his (Pan Stanislav’s) interest, he supposed, with a certain alarm, that he wanted money a second time.