The Project Gutenberg EBook of More Tales by Polish Authors, by Various This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: More Tales by Polish Authors Author: Various Translator: Else C. M. Benecke Marie Busch Release Date: March 2, 2011 [EBook #35457] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TALES BY POLISH AUTHORS *** Produced by David Clarke, JoAnn Greenwood and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) MORE TALES BY POLISH AUTHORS TALES BY POLISH AUTHORS. Translated by ELSE BENECKE. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d. net. "THIS IS A BOOK TO BE BOUGHT AND READ; IT CANNOT FAIL TO BE REMEMBERED.... THE WHOLE BOOK IS FULL of passionate genius.... It is delightfully translated."—The Contemporary Review. OXFORD B. H. BLACKWELL, BROAD ST. MORE TALES BY POLISH AUTHORS TRANSLATED BY ELSE C. M. BENECKE AND MARIE BUSCH [Pg i] [Pg ii] [iii] OXFORD B. H. BLACKWELL, BROAD STREET 1916 NOTE THE TRANSLATORS' THANKS ARE DUE TO MM. SZYMAŃSKI AND ŻEROMSKI FOR ALLOWING THEIR STORIES TO APPEAR IN ENGLISH; AND TO MR. NEVILL FORBES, READER IN RUSSIAN IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, MR. RETINGER, AND MR. STEFAN WOLFF, FOR GRANTING PERMISSION ON BEHALF OF THE THREE OTHER AUTHORS (OR THEIR REPRESENTATIVES) WHOSE WORKS ARE INCLUDED IN THIS VOLUME; ALSO to Miss Repszówa for much valuable help. CONTENTS PAGE MACIEJ THE MAZUR. By Adam Szymański 1 TWO PRAYERS. By Adam Szymański 52 THE TRIAL. By W. St. Reymont 86 THE STRONGER SEX. By Stefan Żeromski 112 THE CHUKCHEE. By W. Sieroszewski 146 THE RETURNING WAVE. By Bolesław Prus 186 POLISH PRONUNCIATION cz = English ch. sz = English sh. ł = English w. ó = English o in "who." ą = French "on." ę = French in as in "vin." rz and ż = French j in "jour." (rz and ż after k, p, t, ch = English sh.) ch = Scotch ch in "loch." c = ts. Pan = Mr. Pani = Mrs. Panna = Miss. MACIEJ THE MAZUR BY ADAM SZYMANSKI AFTER LEAVING YAKUTSK I SETTLED IN X——, A MISERABLE LITTLE TOWN FARTHER UP THE LENA. THE RIVER IS NEITHER SO COLD NOR SO BROAD HERE, BUT WILDER AND GLOOMIER. ALTHOUGH THE DISTRICT IS SOME THOUSANDS OF VERSTS NEARER THE CIVILIZED WORLD, IT CONTAINS FEW COLONIES. THE COUNTRY IS ROCKY AND MOUNTAINOUS, AND THE TAIGA [1] SPREADS OVER IT IN ALL DIRECTIONS FOR HUNDREDS AND THOUSANDS OF VERSTS. IT WOULD CERTAINLY BE DIFFICULT TO FIND A WILDER OR GLOOMIER LANDSCAPE IN ANY PART OF THE WORLD THAN THE VAST TRACT WATERED BY THE LENA IN ITS UPPER COURSE, ALMOST AS FAR AS YAKUTSK ITSELF. TAIGA, GLOOMY, WILD, [iv] [v] [vi] [vii] [viii] [1] AND INACCESSIBLE, TAIGA AS DENSE AS A WALL, COVERS EVERYTHING HERE—MOUNTAINS, RAVINES, PLAINS, AND CAVERNS. ONLY HERE AND THERE A GREY, ROCKY CLIFF, RESEMBLING THE RUIN OF A HUGE MONUMENT, RISES AGAINST THIS DARK BACKGROUND; NOW AND THEN a vulture circles majestically over the limitless wilderness, or its sole inhabitant, an angry bear, is heard growling. THE FEW SETTLEMENTS TO BE FOUND NESTLE ALONG THE ROCKY BANKS OF THE LENA, WHICH IS THE ONLY HIGHWAY IN THIS AS IN ALL PARTS OF THE YAKUTSK DISTRICT. CONTINUAL INTERCOURSE WITH NATURE IN HER WILDEST MOODS HAS MADE THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN THESE SETTLEMENTS SO PRIMITIVE THAT THEY ARE KNOWN TO THE PLOUGHMEN IN THE BROAD VALLEYS ALONG THE UPPER LENA, AND TO the Yakutsk shepherds, as "the Wolves." THE CLIMATE IS VERY SEVERE HERE, AND, ALTHOUGH THE FROSTS ARE NOT AS SHARP AND CONTINUOUS AS IN YAKUTSK, THIS COUNTRY, ON ACCOUNT OF BEING THE NEAREST TO THE ARCTIC REGIONS, IS EXPOSED TO THE CRUEL YAKUTSK NORTH WIND. THIS IS SO VIOLENT THAT IT even sweeps across to the distant Ural Mountains. AT THE INFLUX OF THE GREAT TRIBUTARY OF THE LENA THERE IS A LARGE BASIN; IT WAS FORMED BY THE COMMON AGENCY OF THE TWO RIVERS, AND SUBSEQUENTLY FILLED UP WITH MUD. THIS BASIN IS SURROUNDED ON EVERY SIDE BY FAIRLY HIGH MOUNTAINS, AT TIMES UNDULATING, AT TIMES STEEP. ITS NORTH-EASTERN OUTLET IS ENCLOSED BY A VERY HIGH AND ROCKY RANGE, THROUGH WHICH BOTH RIVERS HAVE MADE DEEP RAVINES. X——, THE CAPITAL OF THE DISTRICT INHABITED BY THE "WOLF-PEOPLE," LIES IN THIS NORTH-EASTERN CORNER OF THE BASIN, PARTLY ON A SMALL LOW ROCK NOW SEPARATED FROM THE MAIN CHAIN BY THE BED OF THE LENA, PARTLY AT THE FOOT OF THE ROCK BETWEEN THE TWO RIVERS. THE HIGH RANGE OF MOUNTAINS FORMING THE OPPOSITE BANK OF THE LENA RISES INTO AN ENORMOUS ROCKY PROMONTORY ALMOST FACING THE TOWN. FLAT AT THE TOP AND OVERGROWN BY A WOOD, THE SIDE TOWARDS THE TOWN STANDS UP AT A DISTANCE OF SEVERAL HUNDRED FEET AS A PERPENDICULAR WALL PLANED SMOOTH WITH ICE, THUS NARROWING THE HORIZON STILL MORE. AS THOUGH TO INCREASE THE WILDNESS OF THE SCENERY PRESENTED BY THE MOUNTAINS AND ROCKS SURROUNDING THE DARK TAIGA, A FIENDISH KIND OF MUSIC IS DAILY PROVIDED BY THE FURIOUS GALES—CHIEFLY NORTH—WHICH PREVAIL HERE continually, and bring the early night frosts in summer, and ceaseless Yakutsk frosts and snowstorms in winter. The gale, CAUGHT BY THE HILLS AND RESOUNDING FROM THE ROCKS, REPEATS ITS VARIED ECHOES WITHIN THE TAIGA, AND FILLS THE WHOLE PLACE WITH SUCH HOWLING AND MOANING THAT IT WOULD BE EASY FOR YOU TO THINK YOU HAD COME BY MISTAKE INTO THE HUNTING-GROUND of wolves or bears. IT WAS SOMEWHERE ABOUT THE MIDDLE OF NOVEMBER, A MONTH TO CHRISTMAS. THE GALE WAS HOWLING IN A VARIETY OF VOICES, AS USUAL, DRIVING FORWARD CLOUDS OF DRY SNOW AND WHIRLING THEM ROUND IN ITS MAD DANCE. NO ONE WOULD HAVE TURNED A DOG INTO THE STREET. THE "WOLF-PEOPLE" HID THEMSELVES IN THEIR HOUSES, DRINKING LARGE QUANTITIES OF HOT TEA IN WHICH THEY soaked barley or rye bread, while the real wolves provided the accompaniment to the truly wolfish howling of the gale. I WAITED FOR AN HOUR TO SEE IF IT WOULD ABATE; HOWEVER, AS THIS WAS NOT THE CASE, I SET OUT FROM THE HOUSE, THOUGH unwillingly. I HAD PROMISED STANISŁAW ŚWIATEŁKI SOME DAYS BEFOREHAND THAT I WOULD GO TO HIM ONE DAY IN THE COURSE OF THE WEEK TO WRITE HIS HOME LETTERS FOR HIM—"VERY IMPORTANT LETTERS," AS HE SAID. IT WAS NOW SATURDAY, SO I COULD POSTPONE IT NO LONGER. STANISŁAW WAS LAME, AND, ON ACCOUNT OF BOTH HIS LAMENESS AND HIS CALLING, HE RARELY LEFT THE HOUSE. HE CAME FROM THE DISTRICT OF CRACOW—FROM WIŚLICA, AS FAR AS I RECOLLECT—AND PRIDED HIMSELF ON BELONGING TO ONE OF THE OLDEST BURGHER FAMILIES OF THE OLD TOWN, A FAMILY WHICH, AS FAR AS FATHERS' AND GRANDFATHERS' MEMORIES COULD REACH, HAD APPLIED ITSELF TO THE NOBLE ART OF SHOEMAKING. STANISŁAW, THEREFORE, WAS ALSO A SHOEMAKER, THE LAST IN HIS FAMILY; FOR ALTHOUGH THE FAMILY DID NOT BECOME EXTINCT IN HIM, NEVERTHELESS, AS HE HIMSELF EXPRESSED IT, "DIVINE PROVIDENCE HAD ORDAINED" THAT HE should not hand down his trade to his son. "GOD HAS BROUGHT HIM UP, SIR, AND IT SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN HIS WILL THAT THE SHOEMAKER ŚWIATEŁKIS SHOULD COME TO AN END IN ME," STANISŁAW USED TO SAY. HE HAD A HABIT OF TALKING QUICKLY, AS IF HE WERE RATTLING PEAS ON TO A WALL. ONLY AT VERY RARE MOMENTS, WHEN SOMETHING GAVE HIM COURAGE AND NO STRANGERS WERE PRESENT, HE WOULD ADD: "THOUGH HIS JUDGMENTS ARE PAST FINDING OUT.... WHAT DOES IT MATTER? WHY, MY GRANDSON WILL BE A SHOEMAKER!" HE WOULD THEN GROW PALE FROM HAVING EXPRESSED HIS SECRET THOUGHT, TURN ROUND QUICKLY, AS THOUGH LOOKING FOR SOMETHING, SHIFT UNEASILY, AND—AS I NOTICED SOMETIMES—UNCONSCIOUSLY SPIT AND WHISPER TO HIMSELF: "NOT IN AN EVIL HOUR BE IT SPOKEN, LORD!" THEREBY DRIVING away the spell from his dearest wish. HE WAS OF MIDDLE HEIGHT, FAIR, BUT NEARLY GREY, AND HAD LOST ALL HIS TEETH. HE WORE A BEARD, AND HAD A BROAD, SHAPELESS NOSE AND LARGE, HOLLOW EYES; IT WAS DIFFICULT TO SAY WHAT KIND OF PERSON HE WAS AS LONG AS HE SAT SILENT. BUT ONLY LET HIM MOVE—WHICH, NOTWITHSTANDING THE INSEPARABLE STICK, HE ALWAYS DID HASTILY, NOT TO SAY FEVERISHLY—ONLY LET HIM POUR OUT HIS QUICK WORDS WITH A TONGUE MOVING LIKE A SPINNING-WHEEL, AND NO ONE WHO HAD EVER SEEN A BURGHER OF PURE POLISH BLOOD COULD FAIL TO RECOGNIZE HIM AS A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK. STANISŁAW HAD NOT LONG CARRIED ON HIS TRADE IN X——. HAVING SCRAPED TOGETHER SOME MONEY AS FOREMAN, HE HAD STARTED A SMALL SHOP; BUT HE WAS CHIEFLY FAMOUS IN THE LITTLE TOWN AS THE ONE MAKER OF GOOD POLISH SAUSAGES. HE HAD A HOUSE NEXT DOOR TO THE SHOP, CONSISTING OF ONE ROOM AND A TINY KITCHEN. HE DID NOT KEEP A SERVANT; A BIG PEASANT, KNOWN AS MACIEJ, PREPARED HIS MEALS AND GAVE HIM companionship and efficient protection. Hitherto, however, I had known very little of this man. I DID NOT OFTEN VISIT ŚWIATEŁKI, AND AS A RULE ONLY WHEN I WANTED TO BUY SOMETHING. SO WE HAD CHATTED IN THE SHOP, AND I had only seen Maciej in passing. But I had noticed him as something unusually large. He was, indeed, huge; not only tall, BUT, AS RARELY HAPPENS, BROAD IN PROPORTION. IT WAS THIS WHICH GAVE HIS WHOLE FIGURE ITS SPECIAL CHARACTERISTICS, AND MADE [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] it seem imposing rather than tall. A HOUSE CALCULATED FOR ORDINARY PEOPLE HE FOUND NARROW. FURNITURE STANDING FAR ENOUGH APART TO SUIT THE AVERAGE MAN HAMPERED MACIEJ. HE COULD NOT TAKE TWO STEPS IN THE HOUSE WITHOUT KNOCKING AGAINST SOMETHING. HE TROD CAUTIOUSLY AND VERY SLOWLY, CONTINUALLY LOOKING ROUND; AND HE ALWAYS HAD THE ASHAMED AIR OF A MAN WHO FEELS HIMSELF OUT OF PLACE AND IS PERSUADED THAT HIS STRONGEST EFFORTS WILL NOT SAVE HIM FROM DOING ABSURD THINGS. I HAD SEEN MACIEJ A FEW TIMES WHEN, IN ŚWIATEŁKI'S ABSENCE, HE HAD TAKEN HIS PLACE IN THE SHOP, WHERE THE ACCOMMODATION WAS FAIRLY LIMITED. AN EXPRESSION ALMOST OF SUFFERING WAS DEPICTED ON HIS BROAD FACE, AND ESPECIALLY NOTICEABLE WHEN, ON APPROACHING THE PASSAGE BETWEEN THE SHELVES AND THE COUNTER, HE STOOD STILL A MOMENT AND MEASURED THE EXTENT OF THE DANGER WITH AN ANXIOUS LOOK. THAT IT EXISTED WAS UNDOUBTED, FOR THE SHELVES WERE FULL OF GLASSES AND JUGS OF ALL KINDS, SO THAT ONE PUSH COULD DO NO LITTLE HARM. IT WAS A REAL SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS FOR HIM. HE LOOKED INDESCRIBABLY COMICAL, AND WAS SO MUCH WORRIED THAT AFTER A FEW MINUTES THE DROPS OF PERSPIRATION RAN OFF HIS FOREHEAD. ONCE I FOUND HIM THERE IN UTTER MISERY, WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO COME. FOR HE HAD FANCIED, WHEN GOING THROUGH THIS PASSAGE AFTER SETTLING WITH A CUSTOMER, THAT HE HAD KNOCKED AGAINST SOMETHING BEHIND HIM, AND, NOT BEING ABLE TO ASCERTAIN WHAT IT WAS, HE STOOD AND WAITED, AFRAID to move until someone came. "GOD BE PRAISED THAT YOU'VE COME!" HE EXCLAIMED WITH DELIGHT. "I AM FIXED HERE AS SURE AS A JEW COMES TO A WEDDING. He's GONE AWAY AND DOESN'T MEAN TO COME BACK! GOOD LORD! HOW LITTLE ROOM THERE IS HERE! I'VE KNOCKED AGAINST SOME TEAPOT OR OTHER, AND CAN'T MOVE EITHER WAY. THE DEVIL TAKE ALL THESE SHELVES!" HE CONTINUED HIS LAMENTATIONS WHEN I HAD SET HIM FREE. "IT'S ALWAYS LIKE THIS; IT'S A REAL MISFORTUNE, THIS WANT OF ROOM. BUT WHAT DOES IT MATTER TO HIM? HE FITS IN here; though he has to help himself with a stick, he can spin round like a top." "HE" WAS, OF COURSE, THE SHOEMAKER, FOR MACIEJ'S STUPIDITY CAUSED FREQUENT BICKERINGS, WHICH, HOWEVER, NEVER BECAME SERIOUS BETWEEN THEM. MACIEJ'S UNWIELDINESS AND AWKWARDNESS IRRITATED THE NERVOUS, AGILE SHOEMAKER; WHILE, ON THE OTHER HAND, MACIEJ COULD NOT UNDERSTAND THE SHOEMAKER'S QUICKNESS. BUT THIS WAS NOT THEIR ONLY CAUSE OF CONTENTION. THE SHOEMAKER, A BURGHER, WAS TO A CERTAIN EXTENT A MAN OF POSITION, WITH A DEEP SENSE OF HIS HIGHER RANK; HE WORE A COAT, AND HAD NEEDS WHICH MACIEJ REGARDED AS ENTIRELY SUPERFLUOUS—IN FACT, THOSE OF A GENTLEMAN. IN ADDITION, THE shoemaker was the owner of the house, and Maciej's employer. APART FROM ALL THIS, HOWEVER, THE ANTAGONISM REVEALED IN THEIR MUTUAL RELATIONS WAS NOT DEEP-SEATED, BUT IN REALITY SUPERFICIAL. THE SHOEMAKER GRUMBLED AT MACIEJ, AND SOMETIMES MADE FUN OF HIM; BUT HE ALWAYS DID IT AS IF HE WERE ON EQUAL TERMS WITH HIM, OBSERVING THE RESPECT DUE TO A PEASANT OF SOME STANDING—THAT IS, HE ALWAYS USED THE FORM "YOU," AND NOT "THOU," IN ADDRESSING HIM. MACIEJ USUALLY RECEIVED THE SHOEMAKER'S GRUMBLING IN SILENCE, BUT SOMETIMES ANSWERED HIS TAUNTS PRETTY SHARPLY. BESIDES THEIR COMMON FATE AND PRESENT EQUALITY IN THE EYES OF THE LAW, OTHER WEIGHTY reasons had an influence in making bearable the relations between people of different classes in one small room. In comparison with Maciej, the shoemaker possessed intelligence of which the latter could never even have dreamt. The SHOEMAKER COULD READ, AND—WHAT GAVE HIM A SPECIAL CHARM, AND NO LITTLE AUTHORITY IN MACIEJ'S EYES—HE COULD SCRAWL THE EIGHTEEN LETTERS OF HIS CHRISTIAN AND SURNAME, ALTHOUGH SLOWLY, AND ALWAYS WITH CONSIDERABLE DIFFICULTY. TO MACIEJ'S CREDIT, ON THE OTHER HAND, BESIDES HIS PHYSICAL STRENGTH—THAT BRUTE FORCE WHICH IMPRESSES EVEN THOSE WHO ARE NOT LAME —STOOD THE FACT THAT HE TOOK SERVICE MORE FROM MOTIVES OF COMRADESHIP THAN OF NECESSITY. FOR HE POSSESSED CAPITAL OF HIS OWN, HAVING MADE SEVERAL HUNDRED ROUBLES, WHICH WERE DEPOSITED AT PRESENT AT THE SHOEMAKER'S HOUSE. MOREOVER —THE MOST IMPORTANT THING OF ALL—HE WAS A CONSCIENTIOUS AND HONEST MAN. WHEN, BEFORE KNOWING THIS, I ASKED THE SHOEMAKER IN CONVERSATION IF HE COULD TRUST MACIEJ COMPLETELY, SINCE HE LIVED ALONE WITH HIM AND OFTEN LEFT HIM IN THE SHOP, HE REPEATED MY QUESTION WITH SO MUCH ASTONISHMENT THAT I AT ONCE REALIZED ITS THOROUGH INAPPROPRIATENESS. HE REPEATED IT, AND, NOT SPEAKING QUICKLY, AS USUAL, BUT SLOWLY AND EMPHATICALLY, HE GAVE ME THIS ANSWER: "MACIEJ, SIR, IS A man—of gold." IMMEDIATELY ON MY ARRIVAL THE SHOP WAS CLOSED AND WE WENT INTO THE HOUSE. A SMALL TABLE WITH A CHAIR ON EITHER SIDE STOOD UNDER THE ONLY WINDOW OF THE LITTLE ROOM. CLOSE BEHIND THE CHAIRS THERE WAS A BED ALONG ONE WALL, AND A SMALL WOODEN SOFA ALONG THE OTHER. A NARROW OPENING OPPOSITE THE TABLE LED TO THE KITCHEN WHERE MACIEJ LIVED. WE SAT DOWN TO CONSULT WHAT TO WRITE. NOT ONLY THE SHOEMAKER, BUT EVEN MACIEJ, WAS IN AN EXTREMELY SERIOUS MOOD; BOTH EVIDENTLY ATTACHED NO LITTLE IMPORTANCE TO THE WRITING OF LETTERS. THE SHOEMAKER FETCHED FROM A TRUNK A LARGE PARCEL TIED UP IN A SHEET OF PAPER, AND, HAVING TAKEN OUT THE LAST LETTERS FROM HIS WIFE AND SON, HANDED THEM CAREFULLY TO ME. MACIEJ SQUEEZED HIMSELF INTO THE KITCHEN, AND DID NOT RETURN TO US. A MOMENT LATER, HOWEVER, HIS HEAD WITH THE LARGE RED FACE— but his head only—showed like the moon against the dark background of the opening. "Why do you go so far away, Maciej?" I asked. "Eh, you see, sir, it's not comfortable sitting in there. I've knocked a bench together here that's a bit stronger." THE SHOEMAKER MUMBLED SOMETHING ABOUT BREAKING THE CHAIRS, BUT MACIEJ BUSIED HIMSELF WITH HIS PIPE AND DID NOT HEAR, or pretended not to hear. WE BEGAN TO READ THE LETTERS. THE LETTER FROM HIS WIFE CONTAINED THE USUAL ACCOUNT OF DAILY WORRIES, INTERSPERSED WITH WISHES FOR HIS RETURN AND THE HOPE OF YET SEEING HIM. THE LETTER FROM HIS SON, WHO HAD FINISHED HIS APPRENTICESHIP AS [7] [8] [9] [10] JOURNEYMAN JOINER HALF A YEAR AGO, WAS SUFFICIENTLY FRIVOLOUS. AFTER TELLING HIS FATHER THAT HE WAS NOW FREE, HE WROTE THAT, AS HE COULD NOT ALWAYS GET WORK, HE WAS UNABLE TO MAKE THE NECESSARY AMOUNT OF MONEY TO BUY HIMSELF A WATCH, AND HE BEGGED HIS FATHER TO SEND HIM THIRTEEN ROUBLES OR MORE FOR THIS PURPOSE. I FINISHED READING THIS, AND LOOKED AT THE SHOEMAKER, WHO WAS CAREFULLY WATCHING THE IMPRESSION THE LETTER WAS MAKING ON ME. I TRIED TO LOOK QUITE INDIFFERENT; WHETHER I SUCCEEDED TO ANY EXTENT I DO NOT KNOW, FOR I DID NOT LOOK STRAIGHT AT HIM. BUT I WAS CONVINCED AFTER A MOMENT THAT MY EFFORTS HAD BEEN VAIN, FOR I HEARD THE ANXIOUS QUESTION: "WELL, AND WHAT ELSE, SIR?" IT WAS CLEAR THAT HIS son's letter was very painful to him, even more so than I had supposed. "HERE AM I, TRYING AND WORKING ALL I CAN, SO THAT IN CASE I RETURN THERE MAY BE SOMETHING TO LIVE UPON AND I MAYN'T HAVE to beg in my old age, and that fool——" WE BOTH BEGAN TO REMONSTRATE WITH HIM THAT IT WAS UNNECESSARY TO TAKE THIS TO HEART, AND THAT HIS SON WAS PROBABLY—IN fact, certainly—a very good lad, only perhaps a little spoilt, especially if he was the only child. "Of course he is the only one, for I have never even seen him." "How—never?" "YES, REALLY NEVER; BECAUSE—I REMEMBER IT AS IF IT WERE TO-DAY—IT WAS FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING. I WAS DOING SOMETHING IN THE BACKYARD, WHEN MY NEIGHBOUR, KWIATKOWSKI, CALLED OUT TO ME FROM BEHIND THE WOODEN FENCE: 'GOD HELP YOU, STANISŁAW, FOR THEY ARE COMING AFTER YOU!' I ONLY HAD TIME TO RUN UP TO THE WINDOW AND CALL OUT: 'GOOD-BYE, BASIA; REMEMBER ST. STANISŁAW WILL BE HIS PATRON!' THAT'S ALL I SAID. BASIA WAS CONFINED SHORTLY AFTER, BUT I DIDN'T SEE HER again. So it was a good thing I said it, for now there'll always be something to remember me by." "God be praised that it's so! but if it hadn't been a son——" Maciej did not finish his sentence, however, for the offended shoemaker began to reprimand him sternly. "YOU ARE TALKING NONSENSE, MACIEJ, AND IT IS NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME! DOES NOT THE CHURCH ALSO GIVE THE NAME OF ST. STANISŁAWA? BESIDES, THOUGH I AM A SINNER AS EVERY MAN IS, COULDN'T I GUESS THAT A WORD SPOKEN AT A MOMENT LIKE THAT would carry weight with the Almighty? Isn't everything in God's hand?" Maciej looked down, and a deep sigh was the only testimony to the shoemaker's eloquence. STANISŁAW'S EXPLANATION OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES LIGHTENED OUR TASK VERY MUCH, AND WHEN HE HAD REMEMBERED THAT THE MOTHER NEVER COMPLAINED OF HER SON—ON THE CONTRARY, WAS ALWAYS SATISFIED WITH HIM—WE SUCCEEDED IN CALMING HIS EXCESSIVE ANXIETY CONCERNING THE FATE OF HIS ONLY CHILD. IN ORDER TO SETTLE THE MATTER THOROUGHLY, IT WAS DECIDED TO ASK SOME RESPONSIBLE AND ENLIGHTENED PERSON TO EXAMINE THE LAD AS HE SHOULD THINK FIT AND TO KEEP AN EYE ON HIM IN FUTURE, REPORTING THE RESULT OF THE EXAMINATION TO THE FATHER. THIS WAS ARRANGED BECAUSE THE MOTHER, BEING A SIMPLE AND UNEDUCATED WOMAN, WAS THOUGHT TO BE POSSIBLY MUCH TOO FOND OF HER ONLY SON, AND AN OVER-INDULGENT AND BLIND JUDGE. THE ONLY QUESTION WAS THE CHOICE OF THE INDIVIDUAL—A SUFFICIENTLY DIFFICULT MATTER; THIS ONE HAD DIED, THAT ONE HAD GROWN RICH, THE OTHER HAD LATELY TAKEN TO DRINK. WE MEDITATED LONG, AND WOULD HAVE MEDITATED STILL LONGER, IF FINALLY THE shoemaker had not said firmly, with the air of a man persuaded that he is speaking to the point: "WE WILL WRITE TO THE PRIEST!" AND WHEN MACIEJ, GLAD THAT THE TROUBLESOME DELIBERATION WAS OVER—POSSIBLY, ALSO, IN ORDER TO REGAIN HIS POSITION AFTER HAVING JUST SAID A STUPID THING—HASTILY SUPPORTED THIS WITH, "YES, THE PRIEST WILL BE best," I conceded to the majority. CERTAIN DIFFICULTIES AROSE FROM THE FACT THAT THE PRIEST WAS NOT PERSONALLY KNOWN TO ŚWIATEŁKI, AND THAT, AS MACIEJ PUT IT, "the priest couldn't be approached just anyhow." These difficulties were overcome by the business-like shoemaker, who BEGAN BY ORDERING A SOLEMN REQUIEM MASS FOR THE SOULS OF HIS PARENTS, FOR WHICH HE SENT THE PRIEST TEN ROUBLES, AND IN this way commended his son to the kind consideration of his benefactor. I BEGAN TO WRITE THE LETTERS, OF WHICH THERE WERE TO BE THREE: TO HIS WIFE, TO HIS SON, AND TO THE PRIEST. IN THE COURSE OF MY STAY IN SIBERIA I HAD WRITTEN SO MANY SIMILAR LETTERS THAT I HAD GAINED NO LITTLE FACILITY IN THIS KIND OF COMPOSITION. I THEREFORE WROTE QUICKLY, ONLY ASKING FOR A FEW PARTICULARS. THE SHOEMAKER CREPT FROM THE BED, ON WHICH HE HAD HITHERTO BEEN SITTING, TO THE CHAIR STANDING BY THE TABLE, AND BENDING OVER THIS FOLLOWED THE MOVEMENT OF MY PEN ATTENTIVELY, READY TO ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS. MACIEJ CLEANED OUT HIS PIPE IN SILENCE. I FINISHED THE LETTERS, AND PROCEEDED TO READ them. STANISŁAW SENT HIS WIFE FIFTY ROUBLES. AS HE RETAINED A MOST AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE OF HIS FAITHFUL BASIA, LOVED HER POSSIBLY MORE NOW THAN TWENTY YEARS AGO, AND COULD NEVER SPEAK OF HER WITHOUT DEEP EMOTION, THE LETTER TO HER CORRESPONDED TO THE FEELINGS OF HIS YOUTH. HE WAS PALER THAN USUAL AS HE LISTENED TO IT, AND HE TRIED TO SAY SOMETHING, BUT HIS LIPS TREMBLED AND THE WORDS CAUGHT IN HIS THROAT. WHEN THE READING WAS FINISHED, HOWEVER, STANISŁAW WRIGGLED IN THE WAY PECULIAR TO HIM, AND, AFTER BLOWING HIS NOSE SEVERAL TIMES, FINALLY ARTICULATED: "NOW I WILL SIGN." HAVING DISCOVERED HIS SPECTACLES IN THE TABLE DRAWER AND DULY FIXED THEM ON HIS NOSE, THE SHOEMAKER POINTED TO THE PLACE WHERE THE signature was to be put, and began: "Es, tee." He had already opened his mouth to pronounce the third letter, when the incautious Maciej, who had behaved most properly while I was writing, unexpectedly interrupted with: [11] [12] [13] [14] "If you would also——" HE BURST IN WITH THIS, BUT OF COURSE DID NOT FINISH. THE SHOEMAKER LAID DOWN THE PEN, LIFTED HIS HEAD HIGH, SO AS TO LOOK through his spectacles at Maciej—who without doubt was already regretting his ill-timed remark—and said drily: "Maciej, you are hindering me." MACIEJ GREW VERY RED, AND, NATURALLY, DID NOT UTTER ANOTHER WORD. THE SHOEMAKER FINISHED WRITING HIS NAME WITHOUT FURTHER INTERRUPTION, AND TOOK OUT THE MONEY. IN ORDER TO AVOID MISTAKES, HE AT ONCE ENCLOSED IT WITH THE LETTER IN AN addressed envelope. HOWEVER MUCH STANISŁAW HAD WISHED DURING OUR CONSULTATION TO "PULL THE SILLY FELLOW'S EARS," THE LETTER TO HIS SON WAS indulgent rather than stern. It was easy to guess what that yet unseen son, the one hope of the old burgher family, was to ŚWIATEŁKI. HE HAD WORKED PERSEVERINGLY AND HONESTLY FOR SO MANY YEARS, AND HAD OVERCOME ALL KINDS OF DIFFICULTIES; LONELY AND NEGLECTED, HE HAD PASSED VICTORIOUSLY THROUGH THE TEMPTATIONS TO ENRICH HIMSELF EASILY WITH WHICH SIBERIA BEGUILES THE UNSUSPECTING NOVICE. DOUBTLESS HE OWED ALL THIS IN A CERTAIN DEGREE TO THE HONEST PRINCIPLES HE HAD BROUGHT from his home and country, as well as to his character, but, without any doubt, equally to that son in whose very birth he SAW THE HAND OF GOD. IT WAS CLEAR THAT THE POOR FELLOW DREAMT OF STANDING BEFORE HIS BELOVED CHILD AS AN ASCETIC DREAMS OF APPEARING AT THE JUDGMENT-SEAT. THE THOUGHT THAT HE WOULD BE ABLE TO TELL HIM—OPENLY AND FEARLESSLY—"I have NOTHING TO BRING YOU, MY SON, BUT A NAME UNSTAINED BY A PAST FULL OF THE GRAVEST TEMPTATIONS," WAS THE LODESTAR OF HIS LIFE. TAKING THIS INTO CONSIDERATION, THEREFORE, I DID NOT SCOLD THE "SILLY FOOL," BUT EXPLAINED TO HIM IN AN AFFECTIONATE WAY WHAT THE MONEY WAS THE FATHER WAS SENDING TO THE FAMILY—MONEY HE HAD EARNED BY WORKING EXTREMELY HARD, AND FREQUENTLY BY PINCHING HIMSELF. I TOLD THE LAD WHAT HE OUGHT TO BE AND MIGHT BECOME, BEING STRONG AND HEALTHY, AND THAT ON THIS ACCOUNT HIS WISH FOR MONEY TO SPEND ON TRIFLES GAVE HIS FATHER PAIN. I WROTE LARGE AND DISTINCTLY, ADAPTING MYSELF to the young joiner's powers of comprehension, and at the end fervently blessed him in his new walk in life. THE READING OF THIS LETTER WAS CARRIED ON WITH CONSTANT INTERRUPTIONS, AS I STOPPED TO ASCERTAIN IF I HAD INTERPRETED THE FATHER'S FEELINGS AND WISHES RIGHTLY. FROM THE BEGINNING I WAS SURE THAT THIS WAS THE CASE, AND BECAME ALL THE MORE CERTAIN OF IT AS I READ ON. EACH TIME I LOOKED AT HIM INQUIRINGLY, STANISŁAW ANSWERED ME HASTILY: "YES, YES, YES, THAT'S JUST AS I WANTED IT!" BUT THE FARTHER I READ THE SHORTER AND QUICKER BECAME THE "YES, YES." IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LETTER, IT IS TRUE, HE OPENED HIS LIPS ONCE MORE, BUT I ONLY SAW THAT THEY WERE MOVING, FOR THEY DID NOT UTTER A SOUND. I LOOKED UP AGAIN: HIS CHIN WAS RESTING ON THE TABLE, AND THE TEARS WERE FLOWING DOWN HIS PALE CHEEKS. HE DID NOT MAKE THE RESTLESS MOVEMENTS PECULIAR TO HIM WHEN HIS FEELINGS OVERFLOWED. HE DID NOT SCRAPE HIS THROAT OR BLOW HIS NOSE. HE MERELY RESTED HIS CHIN ON THE TABLE, AND, SITTING NEAR ME BY THE CANDLE, WITH ITS LIGHT FALLING UPON HIM, HE QUIETLY CRIED BEFORE US. HE DID NOT QUIVER OR SOB, BUT THE TEARS, WHICH HAD CERTAINLY NOT FLOWED FROM THOSE HOLLOW EYES FOR A LONG TIME, STREAMED FROM THEM NOW. WHEN HE WAS CALM HE LOOKED AT ME WITH HIS LARGE, INTELLIGENT EYES, AND THANKED ME WITHOUT RAISING HIS HEAD. "MAY THE LORD REPAY YOU—MAY THE LORD REPAY YOU!" BUT MACIEJ, HAVING ALREADY EXPRESSED HIS SATISFACTION BY ejaculations and indistinct mumbling, now took courage at a longer pause to make quite a speech. "H'M—THAT'S FINE! I'VE LISTENED TO LOTS OF LETTERS, BECAUSE IN THE GOLD-MINES DIFFERENT PEOPLE WROTE LETTERS FOR ME AND OTHERS. AND EVEN HERE, THOUGH Z—— NO DOUBT WRITES VERY WELL, HE WRITES SO LEARNEDLY, LIKE A PRINTED BOOK, THAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND A WORD WHEN YOU LISTEN TO IT. FOR HE PUTS IN SO MANY WORDS FOLKS DON'T USE, YOU CAN SEE IN A MOMENT THAT HE COMES FROM A JEWISH OR A BIG FAMILY, AND THAT HE HAS NEVER HAD MUCH TO DO WITH THE PEOPLE. NOW, YOUR LETTER goes straight to one's heart, for it's human. Oh, poor fellow! He'll cry like an old woman at a sermon when he reads it. If YOU WOULD ALSO—BUT I DAREN'T ASK"—AND HIS VOICE SOUNDED REALLY VERY SHY—"IF YOU WOULD WRITE A SHORT LETTER LIKE THAT to my people too, oh how my old woman would cry,—she would cry!" WHILE I READ THE LETTER TO THE PRIEST, MACIEJ KEPT QUIET, LISTENING AND POSSIBLY ALSO BEGINNING TO CONSIDER WHAT I WAS TO WRITE TO HIS WIFE, IF I ANSWERED TO THE HOPES HE HAD PLACED IN ME. BUT WHEN I CAME TO THE PASSAGE IN WHICH I ASKED THE PRIEST ABOUT THE MASS FOR THE SHOEMAKER'S DEAD PARENTS, THERE WAS A VIOLENT CRASH IN THE ENTRANCE TO THE KITCHEN, AND MACIEJ STOOD BEFORE US IN ALL HIS IMPRESSIVENESS. HIS APPEARANCE WAS SO UNEXPECTED, AND MADE WITH SO MUCH NOISE, THAT WE LOOKED AT HIM IN ASTONISHMENT. MACIEJ WAS STRANGELY ALTERED, AND EVEN SEEMED TO ME TO BE TREMBLING ALL OVER. HE CAME OUT IN SILENCE, AND STANDING JUST IN FRONT OF US, WITH HIS FEET WIDE APART AS USUAL, HE BEGAN TO SEARCH FOR HIS POCKET; BUT WHETHER IT WAS DIFFICULT TO FIND IN THE FOLDS OF HIS BAGGY TROUSERS, OR WHETHER FOR SOME OTHER REASON, HE WAS A LONG TIME ABOUT IT. HAVING FOUND IT, HE DREW OUT A SMALL PURSE, AND, AFTER A LONG PROCESS OF UNTYING, FOR WHICH HE ALSO USED HIS TEETH, HE TOOK OUT A CRUMPLED THREE-ROUBLE NOTE. HE STOOD A WHILE HOLDING THIS. AT LAST HE LAID IT ON THE TABLE with a shaking hand, and began in an imploring, broken voice: "IF THAT'S SO—WHEN HE SAYS THE MASS, LET HIM PRAY FOR US UNHAPPY FOLKS TOO: WRITE THAT, SIR. LET HIM PRAY TO ALMIGHTY God and to the Holy Virgin—if it's only to bring our bones back there—and perhaps—perhaps They'll have mercy." "Perhaps They'll have mercy," the shoemaker repeated like an echo, as he stood beside Maciej. THEY STOOD BEFORE ME—THESE TWO OLD MEN GROWN GREY IN ADVERSITY—AS SMALL CHILDREN STAND BEFORE A STERN FATHER, FEELING THEIR HELPLESSNESS; THE LAME SHOEMAKER WITH THE HOLLOW EYES, LEANING ON HIS STICK, AND THAT HUGE PEASANT WITH HIS hands hanging down and head bowed humbly, imploring this in a quiet whisper. [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] WE SHOULD CERTAINLY HAVE SAT THERE A LONG WHILE IN PAINFUL MUSING IF IT HAD NOT BEEN FOR THE SHOEMAKER. STANISŁAW WAS THE first to rouse himself from the lethargy into which we had fallen. "WHAT THE DEVIL ARE WE DOING! MACIEJ, BESTIR YOURSELF! THE SAUSAGES ARE BURNING IN THERE, AND THE BRANDY IS GETTING STALE! Eh, Maciej, look sharp!" MACIEJ CREPT TO THE KITCHEN, AND RETURNED TO US—NOT, TO SAY THE TRUTH, VERY QUICKLY—PRECEDED BY THE SMELL OF WELL-FRIED SAUSAGES. WE SHOOK OFF OUR LETHARGY SO SLOWLY, HOWEVER, THAT EVEN THE BRISK SHOEMAKER HAD TO MAKE AN EFFORT TO PUT A GOOD FACE ON IT. HIS FIRST TOAST WAS, "THE SUCCESS OF THE LETTERS." TO THIS MACIEJ RESPONDED WITH "AMEN," AND A SIGH WHICH MIGHT HAVE COME FROM A PAIR OF BLACKSMITH'S BELLOWS. THE VODKA DID ITS WORK, HOWEVER. OUR RECENT EMOTION STRENGTHENED ITS EFFECT, AND AFTER TWO GLASSES EVEN AN OBSERVANT PERSON WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED WHAT WE HAD THOUGHT AND FELT HERE A FEW MOMENTS EARLIER, BUT FOR THE LETTERS LYING IN STANISŁAW'S TRUNK. THE LAST VESTIGES OF SADNESS WERE charmed away by the little song which Stanisław began to sing: "The splinters fall in showers Where woodmen trees are felling; Oh, good and pretty children Are dear beyond all telling!" But in his present cheerful frame of mind Maciej protested energetically against even this slight echo of sadness. "EH! JUST YOU SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR CHILDREN! I'VE FIVE OF THEM, AND I DON'T CARE AS MUCH FOR THEM ALL TOGETHER AS YOU DO FOR the one." THE SHOEMAKER EVIDENTLY ACKNOWLEDGED THE JUSTICE OF THIS BOLD REMARK, FOR HE PASSED IT OVER IN SILENCE, AND ONLY PROPOSED TO MACIEJ WITH A GESTURE TO PUT ON THE SAMOVAR. MACIEJ DID HIS WORK IN THE KITCHEN NOISILY AND CHEERILY. HE HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT HIS FAVOURITE PLACE, "THE LITTLE BENCH A BIT STRONGER," AND HE RETURNED TO US WITHOUT DELAY. HIS VOICE, ALWAYS ABSOLUTELY UNSUITED TO THE ACOUSTIC PROPERTIES OF THE ROOM, NOW SOUNDED AS PERHAPS IT ONCE DID IN THOSE YEARS ON THE FIELDS OF MAZOWSZE. WHEN HE SPOKE, IT WAS SIMPLY A SHOUT, FOR HE DID NOT MODIFY THE INTONATION BY ANY EXPRESSION WHATEVER. HE TALKED ABOUT HIS WORK, GESTICULATED, AND WAVED HIS ARMS; WHEN OBLIGED TO STAND UP, HE MOVED SUDDENLY, AND THE SAME WHEN HE SAT DOWN; HE BECAME INDIGNANT, AND RETRACTED HIS WORDS; HE SQUEEZED HIS FINGERS TOGETHER AND SPREAD THEM OUT; BUT HE DID ALL THIS SLOWLY AND ACCURATELY, JUST IN THE WAY HE SPOKE. HE SAID NOT A SINGLE WORD NOR RELATED A SINGLE FACT WITHOUT SUPPORTING AND ILLUSTRATING IT BY EXPRESSIVE MIMICRY, BY A MOVEMENT OR A POSE, WHICH HE ALWAYS TRIED TO MAKE AS NEAR THE ORIGINAL AS POSSIBLE. SO WHEN I RETURNED TO HIS PROTESTS AGAINST THE SHOEMAKER'S SADNESS, AND ASKED HIM: "HAVE YOU FIVE SONS, MACIEJ?" HE ANSWERED: "FIVE, LIKE THE FIVE FINGERS ON MY HAND"; AND, HOLDING UP HIS FIST, HE CAREFULLY SPREAD OUT HIS FINGERS ONE BY ONE. HE LAUGHED LONG AND HEARTILY AT THIS, IN THE way that only children laugh, his whole body shaking. BUT IT WAS NOT ONLY HIS LAUGH THAT WAS CHILDLIKE; MACIEJ'S BIG BROAD FACE, PORTRAYING HIS INWARD CALM, REMINDED ME OF THE FACE OF A LITTLE CHILD WHOSE THOUGHTS HAVE AS YET NOT INFLUENCED ITS FEATURES. IN PROPORTION TO HIS HEIGHT AND BREADTH MACIEJ'S HEAD SEEMED TO ME SMALLER THAN IT REALLY WAS. HIS WIDE NECK DIMINISHED IT STILL MORE. BUT WHEN HE SAT DOWN, RESTING HIS HANDS ON HIS KNEES IN HIS USUAL MANNER, SOMEHOW HIS HEAD DISAPPEARED ENTIRELY, AND THEN FROM BEHIND HE WAS VERY LIKE A POINTED HAYRICK, WHILE FROM THE SIDE HE REMINDED ME OF THOSE CLUMSY BUT IMPRESSIVE FIGURES WHICH PEOPLE OF past ages cut out in rocks and stone. THE LONGER I LOOKED AT HIM, THE STRONGER BECAME MY WISH TO KNOW THIS HUGE FELLOW RATHER BETTER, AND TO ASCERTAIN SOMETHING MORE ABOUT HIM. I THEREFORE DECIDED TO PROFIT BY THE OCCASION, WHICH POSSIBLY MIGHT NOT SOON OCCUR AGAIN, and to spend the whole evening with the shoemaker. MACIEJ CHATTERED TREMENDOUSLY; HE TALKED BIDDEN AND UNBIDDEN, AND WAS EVEN MORE LOQUACIOUS THAN I COULD HAVE HOPED. ALTHOUGH HE TALKED DISCONNECTEDLY, WITH CONTINUAL LONG DIGRESSIONS FROM THE SUBJECT, I LISTENED TO HIM WITH GROWING INTEREST. HIS ANECDOTES WERE CHIEFLY ABOUT HIS LIFE IN THE GOLD-MINES. HOWEVER FAMILIAR THAT LIFE WAS TO ME FROM A NUMBER OF DIFFERENT STORIES, I LISTENED TO HIM PATIENTLY, FOR I WAS INTERESTED IN THE VERY TICKLISH QUESTION OF HOW HE COULD HAVE SAVED TOGETHER SEVERAL HUNDRED ROUBLES IN SURROUNDINGS WHERE RICHES CAN ALWAYS BE ACCUMULATED, BUT RARELY IN A legitimate manner. "I WORKED—SLAVED—IN THE GOLD-MINES," MACIEJ CONTINUED ON HIS RETURN FROM THE KITCHEN. "AT FIRST THEY PUT ME TO WORK underground, but the inspector saw me, and called out, 'Who's that huge fellow?' as if he'd never seen a big man before, the low scoundrel! He was told: 'That's Maciej, one of the Poles.' 'He's a good-looking POLE. BRING HIM HERE.' THEY SENT FOR ME, AND I CAME AND TOOK OFF MY CAP"—MACIEJ TOUCHED HIS HEAD. "BUT I DIDN'T BOW. OH NO! WHY SHOULD I? 'WHAT A BLOCKHEAD! WHERE DO YOU COME FROM?' HE ASKED. 'HA-HA! AND WHERE AM I LIKELY TO COME FROM IF NOT FROM POLAND!' AFTERWARDS HE ASKED AGAIN: 'CAN YOU BAKE BREAD?' 'IS HE MAKING A FOOL OF ME, OR WHAT DOES HE MEAN?' I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, BUT I DIDN'T LET ON, AND SAID: 'THAT'S A WOMAN'S WORK, NOT A MAN'S'—SO I EXPLAINED TO HIM; DEVIL KNOWS IF HE understood or not! But he ordered them to take me on as baker's assistant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joking, and laughed: 'Oh yes, I've learnt it,' I said. "HE PUT ME TO BE HEAD BAKER. THEY DEALT OUT ALL THE FLOUR USED IN THE BAKERY FOR THE WHOLE WEEK—AND THERE WAS A LOT USED, FOR WE BAKED FOR MORE THAN TWO HUNDRED PEOPLE. SO I DID MY WORK, AND WEIGHED THE FLOUR TO MAKE IT LAST OUT. SCARCELY WAS THE WEEK OVER, WHEN THE INSPECTOR CAME AGAIN: 'WELL, MACIEJ,' HE SAID, 'HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH FLOUR?' I JUST SAID NOTHING, BUT TOOK HIM TO THE BAKERY AND SHOWED HIM WHAT WAS LEFT—NEARLY THREE SACKS. WHEN HE SAW THAT HE OPENED HIS EYES EVER SO WIDE. 'GOOD! GOOD!' HE SAID; AND HE CALLED THE STOREKEEPER AND TOLD HIM TO MAKE A NOTE OF how much was left, and to save half of it and give me half as reward. "NOW, IN THESE GOLD-MINES IT JUST HAPPENS ONE WAY OR THE OTHER: SOMETIMES SUCH A LOT OF PEOPLE COME YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE TO PUT THEM, AND SOMETIMES, WHEN THEY START RUNNING AWAY, THERE AREN'T ENOUGH LEFT EVEN TO GO UNDERGROUND. AND THAT'S HOW IT WAS THERE: A LOT OF WORK, AND TOO FEW PEOPLE TO DO IT. FIRST THEY TOOK ONE MAN AWAY FROM ME, AND AFTERWARDS A SECOND, AND AFTER A WEEK STILL MORE, SO THAT I WAS LEFT WITH ONE, AND THEN QUITE ALONE FOR A FEW DAYS. I WAS STANDING AT THE KNEADING TROUGH AND OVEN FROM SUNRISE TO SUNRISE. WHEN THE INSPECTOR SAW THAT I WAS WITHOUT HELP, AND THE SWEAT WAS RUNNING OFF MY FOREHEAD, HE CALLED OUT: 'VODKA! LET MACIEJ HAVE AS MUCH AS HE WANTS! DRINK AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE,' HE SAID. I DIDN'T STINT MYSELF; BUT A SINGLE GLASS MAKES ONE BAD ENOUGH, SO HALF A BOTTLE WAS SAVED EVERY DAY. This was my own, and in this way I got nearly a rouble a day.[2] "BUT WHETHER BY SLAVING LIKE THIS, OR WHAT NOT, I DON'T KNOW HOW IT WAS: ANYWAY I GOT ILL. MY FEET AND ARMS SEEMED PARALYZED ALL AT ONCE; DARK SPOTS CAME ON MY BODY, AND MY TEETH GOT ALL SHAKY, LIKE KEYS IN AN ORGAN. 'TAKE HIM OFF TO THE HOSPITAL,' THEY SAID. THE DOCTOR SAID IT WAS SCURVY. WHETHER OR NO, IT WAS A FACT I GOT WORSE AND WORSE. AT LAST ONE OF THE MINERS LYING IN THE HOSPITAL, AN OLD BRODIAGA [3], SAID TO ME: 'DON'T YOU PAY ANY ATTENTION TO THEM OR TO THE DOCTOR, FOR THEY'LL CURE YOU FOR THE NEXT WORLD. LISTEN TO GOOD ADVICE. SEND SOMEONE TO THE TAIGA FOR TOADSTOOLS, FILL A BOTTLE WITH THEM, AND AFTER IT HAS BEEN STANDING A CERTAIN TIME AND HAS GOT STRONG, DRINK A WINEGLASS OF IT WITH VODKA EVERY DAY.' I did just as he told me, and after a week I was quite fit again. 'AFTERWARDS I SAW THE BRODIAGA COMING ALONG. I THOUGHT: 'HE'LL EXPECT TO BE TREATED.' SO I STOOD TREAT FOR HIM. HE SAID: 'Well, what did you think of it?' "'I think it was a good trick, but I don't want to do it a second time.' "'YOU'RE RIGHT,' HE SAID. 'HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE COOK DRAW THE VEINS OUT OF THE MEAT WHEN HE'S GETTING THE INSPECTOR'S cutlets ready?' "'Oh yes! Rather!' I said. "'NOW, YOU SEE, IF YOU STOP HERE, THEY'LL DRAW ALL THE VEINS AND ALL THE STRENGTH OUT OF YOU. YOU'VE SAVED A LITTLE MONEY; go away from here, and don't look back.' "I LEFT THE HOSPITAL, AND WENT TO GET MY 'TIME.' BUT IT WAS A DIFFICULT BUSINESS. 'STOP HERE,' THEY SAID TO ME, 'STOP HERE, AND WE'LL RAISE YOUR WAGES.' AND SO ON. BUT I DIDN'T AGREE. 'YOUR MONEY IS GOOD, BUT DEAR,' I ANSWERED. THE INSPECTOR GOT VERY ANGRY, AND SHOUTED, 'ASS!' AND THEY COUNTED IT OUT TO ME: I HAD GOT A ROUND SUM OF A THOUSAND ROUBLES, ALL BUT A hundred and fifty." "Did you really drink that stuff, Maciej?" "A-ah! It was the first medicine I ever took," he answered. But the shoemaker, understanding my incredulity, set it aside by an excellent explanation: "No fear! Even two bottles of toadstools wouldn't hurt a machine like that!" Maciej disapproved of the expression. "Am I a machine now? Why, you only see half of what I was!" "Then, you were stouter formerly?" "OH YES! I TELL YOU, I WASN'T LIKE THIS. WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE NOW? A GREYHOUND GROWN THIN! IS THIS AN ARM?" AND HE UNTWISTED HIS SHIRT SLEEVE AND SHOWED US AN ARM OF WHICH A LEG MIGHT HAVE BEEN JEALOUS. "IS THIS A LEG?" DRAWING HIS WIDE TROUSERS TIGHT, HE LOOKED PITEOUSLY AT HIS LEG MEASURING OVER A YARD ROUND. "I USEDN'T TO BE LIKE THIS," HE ENDED WITH a sigh. NOTHING COULD HAVE GIVEN ME MORE SATISFACTION THAN THESE SIGHS. BUT A GOOD BEGINNING HAD BEEN MADE, FOR MACIEJ, WHO [24] [25] [26] [27] CERTAINLY VERY RARELY EXPERIENCED THE RELIEF OF UNBURDENING HIMSELF, WAS SO EXCITED THAT HE REQUIRED NO STRONGER INCENTIVE THAN THAT I SHOULD LISTEN TO HIM WITH UNFEIGNED INTEREST. IT WAS ENOUGH TO REPEAT, "WHAT THEN? JUST SO! REALLY!" OFTENER AND MORE PRESSINGLY. THUS SPURRED ON, EACH TIME MACIEJ'S "HA, HA!" BECAME LOUDER AND HIS FACE REDDER, AND WHEN THE samovar had boiled he declined to obey the shoemaker and would not pour out the tea. "CAN I NEVER HAVE A TALK? WHEN DO I EVER GET A CHANCE OF SPEAKING TO ANYONE? YOU'RE IN THE SHOP; YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO AND HOW TO TALK TO PEOPLE, BUT I DON'T. IT'S NOT ONLY WITH THOSE WHO COME HERE; I CAN'T DO IT EVEN WITH OUR OWN PEOPLE, I'M SUCH A PLAIN MAN. IT'S DULL TO BE ALONE, AND I'M LOSING FLESH; BUT THERE'S NO ONE I CAN GO TO, FOR PEOPLE GET BORED WITH ME. THE MASTER HERE UNDERSTANDS EVERY WORD I SAY, AND ISN'T SURPRISED AND DOESN'T LAUGH AT ANYTHING. I CAN TALK TO HIM LIKE ONE OF MY OWN FAMILY, AND FEEL LIGHTER AT HEART AT ONCE. DO POUR OUT FOR YOURSELF. I DON'T WANT THAT STUPID tea." ALTHOUGH SHOCKED AT THIS DISTINCT SUBVERSION OF THE ORDER OF SOCIETY, THE SHOEMAKER ALLOWED HIMSELF TO BE MOLLIFIED, AND began to pour out tea. Maciej, freed from one of his most trying duties, became all the livelier. WE BOTH SETTLED OURSELVES ON THE SOFA. MACIEJ WAS TO TELL ME HIS PAST HISTORY FROM THE BEGINNING. HE WAS AS RED AS A peony, but, strange to say, he sat silent, and although I prompted him several times with, "Well, and what next, Maciej?" HE DID NOT SPEAK. YET HIS DEEP BREATHING SHOWED THAT THIS SILENCE DID NOT MEAN SPEECHLESSNESS. ON THE CONTRARY, IT WAS thought slowly working and stirring him to expression. MACIEJ SAT UPRIGHT, WITH HIS KNEES WIDE APART AND BOTH HANDS RESTING ON THEM. HE SAT THUS FOR SOME MINUTES, WITH EYES WHICH SEEMED FIXED ON THE FAR DISTANCE; HE SAT MOTIONLESS AS THOUGH HE WERE ALREADY AWAY IN THAT DISTANT SCENE WHICH, POSSIBLY, WAS OPENING BEFORE HIM. YET, WHEN OBSERVED CLOSELY, HIS FACE WAS BURNING. I WAS ON THE POINT OF PUTTING A more urgent question to him, when Maciej, looking neither at me nor at the shoemaker, began as follows: "YOU MUST HAVE HEARD OF A LARGE RIVER—IT'S SWIFT AND BLACK—THEY CALL IT NAREW? NOT FAR FROM THAT RIVER THERE ARE THREE big villages, called Mocarze. "I'VE SEEN MANY, MANY DIFFERENT VILLAGES, AND I'VE LOOKED AT MANY DIFFERENT PEOPLE. I'VE SEEN THE BIG TARTAR VILLAGES, AND THE RUSSIAN SETTLEMENTS, AS LARGE AS TOWNS, AND THE VILLAGES ON THE RIVER ANGARA AND BEHIND LAKE BAIKAL, AND WHERE THE Poles are so well off;[4] but nowhere, nowhere have I seen villages like our Mocarze. "There isn't a thing you can't find there. Everything's there. My God!" And Maciej stretched out his arms. "And those meadows and fields and the hay timee! Oh! those young oak-woods, and the corn, too, like gold! "HERE EVERYTHING IS BIG, BUT SOMEHOW IT'S DREARY. WHAT CAN YOU SEE IN THE TAIGA? WHAT'S THERE TO ENJOY IN THE FIELDS? IT'S LIKE A GRAVE ALL ROUND YOU: A VULTURE CRYING ABOVE, A BEAR GROWLING IN THE TAIGA, AND THAT'S ALL THE PLEASURE YOU GET! AT home it's different. "There, if you go out in the morning through THE FIELDS WITH THE DEW ON THEM, AND SHOUT, IT SOUNDS LIKE A BELL RINGING IN THE OPEN AIR. YOU WATCH THE CHEERFULNESS OF THE ANIMALS, AND LISTEN TO THE BIRDS CHIRPING ON THE GROUND AND ABOVE, AND YOU FEEL CHEERFUL TOO. AND IF YOU BREATHE THE AIR COMING FROM THOSE FIELDS AND MEADOWS, AS IF IT CAME FROM A CENSER IN CHURCH, YOU FEEL ITS STRENGTH GOING INTO YOU. I'VE NEVER FELT SO STRONG ANYWHERE AS AT SUNRISE AT MOCARZE, WHEN I USED TO SAY 'GOOD-MORNING!' TO THE SUN. HERE THE MORNING'S NO MORNING—THERE'S NO PLEASURE IN IT; NONE OF THE BIRDS OR ANIMALS or people know anything about it. At home it's different. "I'VE SEEN SO MANY COUNTRIES; I'VE BEEN THROUGH ALL THIS BIG SIBERIA, AND A GOOD BIT OF THE LAKE BAIKAL COUNTRY, BUT I'VE NEVER SEEN A COUNTRY LIKE OURS ANYWHERE. BUT I'VE LEARNT THAT SINCE BEING HERE. YES, HERE! AM I THE ONLY ONE? WE'VE CLEVER PEOPLE AT HOME—PRIESTS AND GENTLEMEN AND PEASANTS WITH HEADS ON THEIR SHOULDERS—BUT NONE OF THEM KNOW what they have!" "EACH OF THESE VILLAGES CALLED MOCARZE HAS ITS OWN NAME. THEY CALL THE ONE THAT'S THE OLDEST, KORZENISTE; THE SECOND, Suche; and the third, which is the newest, Mokry. I am from Mocarze-Suche. "It's a big village. Pan Olszeski was our master, and we were his serfs. Everyone knows IT'S NOT VERY PLEASANT TO BE THAT. When I was about twenty, Olszeski took me into his service at the house. "HE WAS A VERY QUICK-TEMPERED MAN, YELLOW, DRY, AND SMALL—THE VERY DEVIL, I CAN TELL YOU! HE WASN'T REALLY BAD, ONLY WHEN HE WAS ANGRY; BUT HE GOT ANGRY ABOUT EVERYTHING, AND THEN HE'D JUST BE BESIDE HIMSELF WITH RAGE—OH MY GOODNESS! YET NOT FOR LONG. HE'D SHOUT AND RUN UP AND DOWN AND GET YELLOWER STILL; BUT WHEN HE'D FINISHED YOU COULD SAY ANYTHING TO HIM, AND, THOUGH HE'D TREMBLE, HE'D LISTEN AND SAY NOTHING. HE WAS JUST. IT CAN'T BE SAID THAT THE YOUNG MEN LIKED HIM, BUT THE OLDER ONES—THE FARMERS—ALWAYS TOLD US: 'DON'T TAKE ANY NOTICE OF HIS SHOUTING; HIS BARK IS WORSE THAN HIS BITE.' AND THEY WERE RIGHT. HE NEVER HARMED AND NEVER WORRIED PEOPLE; BUT THIS I ONLY KNEW LATER. AT THE TIME I ONLY KNEW THAT OLSZESKI WAS BAD-TEMPERED, AND I FEARED HIM LIKE FIRE, AND—WELL, EVERY BAD THING. BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW IT CAME ABOUT; THE FARTHER I WENT FROM HIM, THE MORE HE CAME AFTER ME. HE WAS ALWAYS AT ME, SCOLDING, CURSING, AND SHOUTING. BUT I REMEMBERED WHAT MY FATHER HAD SAID: 'DON'T TAKE ANY NOTICE OF HIS BEING ANGRY, BUT REMEMBER THAT HE'S JUST'; SO I STOOD IT—STOOD IT AND NEVER SAID A WORD. AND I SHOULD HAVE STOOD IT LONGER IF OLSZESKI [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] HADN'T GONE TOO FAR. BUT HE SAID EVERYTHING HE COULD THINK OF AGAINST ME, AND AT LAST, ON PURPOSE TO WOUND MY FEELINGS, HE BEGAN TO CALL ME A 'STUPID GREAT BOOBY' AND 'GREENHORN.' EVEN NOW I DON'T LIKE TO THINK ABOUT IT. HE HAPPENED TO COME INTO THE YARD. THOUGH I WAS AT WORK, AND HE DIDN'T SEE ME, AND I RAN AWAY FROM HIM LIKE A HARE FROM A DOG, HE AT ONCE BEGAN TO SHOUT: 'EH, THERE! YOU STUPID GREAT BOOBY, YOU GREENHORN!' HIS VOICE WAS LIKE HIMSELF, THIN AND SHRILL, AND SO PENETRATING IT SOUNDED LIKE A WHISTLE. WHEN HE CALLED ME ALL THOSE NAMES I BOILED OVER WITH RAGE. IT WAS ONLY HE WHO THOUGHT ME STUPID, NOT MY OWN PEOPLE. THERE WASN'T A FELLOW IN THE VILLAGE EQUAL TO ME, EITHER WITH THE FIDDLE AT THE INN OR AT THE HARDEST FIELD WORK. FOR I NEVER SHIRKED WORK ANY MORE THAN PLAY. AND I WAS SO STRONG—I'M SPEAKING seriously—not as I am now; if there was ever anything anyone couldn't do, Maciej did it. "AND THEN TO BE INSULTED LIKE THAT, AND GO ON STANDING IT—WHY SHOULD I? SO I THOUGHT, 'THERE'S BEEN ENOUGH OF THIS, AND I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT, TOO! WITH GOD'S HELP I'LL SHOW HIM I'M NOT SO STUPID, AND NOT SUCH A BOOBY.' I DON'T KNOW IF I COULD DO IT NOW, BUT AT THAT TIME THERE WASN'T A TEAM I COULDN'T HAVE HELD. WHEN I WAS HOLDING THEM FROM BEHIND, YOU COULD HAVE BEATEN THE HORSES TO DEATH, THEY WOULDN'T HAVE STIRRED. I HADN'T TRIED WITH THE CARRIAGE HORSES; THE COACHMAN WOULDN'T ALLOW IT. 'YOU'LL GET THE LANDAU SMASHED, AND I'M RESPONSIBLE,' HE SAID. BUT I THOUGHT: 'LET COME WHAT MAY, I'LL try.' "IT WAS A SUNDAY WHEN HE ORDERED THE HORSES TO BE PUT TO, BUT NOT TO GO TO CHURCH, FOR HE WAS DRIVING ALONE, ONLY TO GO TO THE TOWN. HE GOT IN, SAT DOWN, SHUT THE DOOR, AND WAITED. HE LIKED THE HORSES TO START OFF AT ONCE AT A SHARP TROT. BUT I WAS BEHIND. I PUT MY FEET WIDE APART TO STAND FIRM. I TOOK HOLD OF THE SIDE OF THE LANDAU WITH ONE HAND, AND OF THE BACK WITH THE OTHER. MY HEART WAS GOING LIKE A MILL, FOR I WAS THINKING: 'PERHAPS I SHAN'T BE ABLE TO HOLD HORSES IN SUCH GOOD CONDITION.' BUT YOU'RE ALL RIGHT AFTER THE START. I GATHERED ALL MY STRENGTH TOGETHER, AND STRAINED FORWARD TILL MY JOINTS cracked. The horses started—they started once, twice, and—didn't move a step. "'GO ON!' A SHRILL VOICE CALLED OUT FROM THE LANDAU, WHILE THE MISTRESS AND THE YOUNG LADIES STOOD AT THE WINDOW WAVING their handkerchiefs. "'Go on, blockhead!' and his shrill voice went into a squeak. "BUT THE OLD COACHMAN MUST HAVE GUESSED WHAT WAS HAPPENING, FOR, WHEN HE SAW THE HORSES DIDN'T MOVE, HE DIDN'T WHIP THEM, SO THAT THERE SHOULDN'T BE AN ACCIDENT. HE DIDN'T SLASH AT THEM, BUT TURNED TO THE MASTER AND SAID: 'HOW CAN I START WHILE MACIEJ IS HOLDING ON?' OLSZESKI JUMPED AS IF HE'D BEEN SCALDED, AND TREMBLED SO MUCH HE COULDN'T GET HIS BREATH. THE CARRIAGE WAS HALF OPEN, SO HE TURNED TOWARDS ME, QUITE GREEN WITH ANGER, AND LOOKED ME STRAIGHT IN THE FACE. BUT I HELD ON, AND WHEN ONCE I'D LOOKED AT HIM I DIDN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF HIM; MY VEINS SWELLED FROM HOLDING ON TO THE CARRIAGE, AND THE BLOOD WENT TO MY HEAD. WHAT I WAS LIKE I DON'T KNOW, BUT MY MASTER LOOKED AND LOOKED. I THOUGHT: 'GOD KNOWS WHAT HE'LL DO TO ME.' BUT HE MUST HAVE UNDERSTOOD, FOR HE ONLY LAUGHED, AND SAID: 'HOW STRONG YOU are! How strong you are! But now let go, Maciej.' I let go, and the horses started off; I thought they would bolt." MACIEJ SAT DOWN TIRED, FOR HE HAD BEEN REPRODUCING THE WHOLE SCENE OF HOLDING BACK THE CARRIAGE AS ACCURATELY AS POSSIBLE BEFORE US. HE HAD STOOD LEANING SIDEWAYS, HAD HELD THE CARRIAGE WITH HIS HAND, BEEN TUGGED AT BY THE POWERFUL HORSES, AND HAD LOOKED HIS MASTER THREATENINGLY IN THE FACE; EVEN HIS EYES HAD BECOME BLOODSHOT, AND HIS TIGHTLY clenched hands had swelled. IF, WEARING HIS CLUMSY "JUNTAS," [5] GREY-HEADED, BENT, AND BUT HALF HIS WEIGHT, HE LOOKED SPLENDID AND THREATENING, IF HIS eyes flashed now, what must he have been like when he faced his master in defence of his human dignity? "From that time," Maciej continued, after a short pause, "my master was different. Not all AT ONCE, IT'S TRUE; FOR AT FIRST HE AVOIDED ME, AND, THOUGH HE LEFT OFF SCOLDING, HE NEVER SAID A WORD FOR A LONG TIME. I THOUGHT TO MYSELF: 'I'M IN FOR SOMETHING WORSE; HE'S SURELY THINKING OUT SOMETHING FOR ME I SHAN'T FORGET.' BUT NO. HE BEGAN TO TALK TO ME, BUT ALWAYS GOOD-NATUREDLY AND KINDLY, AND A YEAR HADN'T PASSED BEFORE I WAS HIGH IN HIS FAVOUR. IF ANYONE HAD TO BE SENT OUT WITH MONEY, OR GO WITH THE MISTRESS OR YOUNG LADIES, NO ONE MIGHT DO IT BUT MACIEJ; AND LATER, WHEN HE KNEW ME, HE DIDN'T TELL ME: 'DON'T GET DRUNK, DON'T BE TOO LONG, AND DON'T KILL THE HORSES'; HE ONLY SAID I WAS TO GO, AND EVERYTHING HE HAD ORDERED WAS AS RIGHT AS IF IT HAD BEEN WRITTEN IN A BOOK. SO HE GOT FOND OF ME. I NEVER HEARD A BAD WORD FROM HIM ALL THE LAST YEARS I WAS IN HIS HOUSE. AND I WAS VERY HAPPY. BUT THOUGH I WAS HAPPY THERE, I HAD MY FUTURE TO THINK OF, TOO. THOUGH MY FATHER OFTEN TALKED OF IT, I MYSELF CERTAINLY SHOULDN'T HAVE TROUBLED TO GET MARRIED IN A HURRY, AND DIDN'T THINK MUCH ABOUT IT. FOR WHY THINK OF ANYTHING BETTER WHEN YOU'RE HAPPY? AND NO ONE RUNS AWAY FROM HAPPINESS. THERE WAS work, but there was plenty of fun. "WHAT A HAPPY TIME THE HARVEST AT HOME USED TO BE! AND WHEN OUR MOCARZE FIDDLER PLAYED AT THE INN ON SUNDAYS, EVEN the old people couldn't keep their feet still. "AND OUR GIRLS! HAH! THERE AREN'T SUCH GIRLS ANYWHERE. FOR EXAMPLE, DO YOU EVER SEE ONE LIKE THEM HERE? WHEN THEY WERE ALL TOGETHER, AND YOU CAME UP, THEY WERE LIKE FLOWERS—LIKE THE LILIES THEMSELVES. AND WHEN YOU HEARD THEM TITTERING, 'HI! HI! HI!' AND SAW THEIR BRIGHT EYES BEHIND THEIR APRONS, YOU DIDN'T KNOW YOURSELF THAT YOU WERE CALLING OUT: 'Heh there! Go ahead, you fellows! Now then, fiddler, strike up something lively! Come along, my dear!'" MACIEJ WAS ABOUT TO START OFF DANCING, FOR HE BURST OUT WITH THE 'HEH THERE!' SO ENERGETICALLY THAT IT SET OUR EARS TINGLING. But a scornful remark of the shoemaker checked him. [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] "They hid behind their aprons? What vulgar foolishness!" Maciej, who had already started up, sat down, but would not allow the shoemaker's words to pass. "VULGAR? EVERYONE KNOWS IT'S NOT LIKE IN A TOWN. BUT DON'T BE DISAGREEABLE. NOW, AMONG THESE GIRLS THE BEST-LOOKING seemed to me——" "Kaśka?" interposed the shoemaker. "NO, NOT KAŚKA, BUT MARYA. SHE WAS THE BEST GIRL IN MOCARZE, AND THOUGH SHE HAD NO MOTHER, AND WAS ALONE AT HOME, she was tidy and hard-working, and everything round her was clean. "IN THE FIELD SHE ALWAYS WENT AT THE HEAD OF THE MOWERS. SHE COULD ALWAYS BE SEEN WHEN SHE WAS STANDING IN THE CORN, IT never hid her. My MARYA WAS A FINE GIRL, WELL GROWN, AND RED LIKE A POPPY OR CHERRIES IN THE SUN. AND HER BODY WAS SO healthy—it was as hard as a n...