Tales by Polish Authors Part 50

The wounded man uttered low groans. Suddenly the clatter of hoofs was heard, and a carriage with a pair of greys and a coachman in livery appeared on the highroad. Ferdinand, who was returning from a drinking bout, was lolling inside.

"Out of the way!" shouted the coachman.

"Out of the way yourself! We are carrying a wounded man!"

The procession drew near to the carriage. Ferdinand Adler roused himself, looked out of the carriage, and asked:

"What's the matter there?"

"Goslawski has had his hand torn off."

"Goslawski? Is that the fellow who has the pretty wife?" said Ferdinand.

There was a momentary silence. Then somebody murmured:

"How sharp he is!"

Ferdinand regained his senses, and asked, changing his voice:

"Has the doctor dressed his wounds?"

"There is no doctor in the factory."

"Ah, true.... Has the bone-setter seen to it?"

"There is no bone-setter either, now."

"Very well then: horses must be sent to fetch the doctor from the town."

"Perhaps, sir, you would order your coachman to turn round?" one of the men suggested.

"My horses are tired," said Ferdinand; "I will send others." And the carriage moved on.

"What a fellow!" said the workmen; "we can wear ourselves out, and he does not think of giving us rest; but his horses must be rested!"

"Oh, well ... you have got to pay for horses, and workpeople can be had for nothing," another replied.

The crowd was approaching Goslawski's cottage. A lamp was burning in the window. One of the workmen gently knocked at the door.

"Who is there?"

"Open the door, Pani Goslawska!"

In a moment a woman appeared half dressed in the doorway.

"What is it?" she asked, looking terrified at the crowd.

"Your husband has had a slight accident, so we brought him home."

"Jesus!" she cried, and ran up to the stretcher. "Oh, Kazio, what has happened to you?"

"Don't wake the children," whispered her husband.

"What a lot of blood--Mother of Mercy!"

"Be quiet!" murmured the wounded man. "My hand has been torn off, but that is nothing; send for the doctor."

The woman trembled and began to sob. Two workmen took her by the arms and led her into the room; others carried the wounded man inside. His face was distorted with pain, and he bit his lips to suppress the groans that might have waked the children.

In the morning Adler was informed of the accident. He listened in silence, and asked:

"Has the doctor been?"

"We sent for the doctor and for the bone-setter, but they were both out, attending to other patients."

"Fetch another doctor. Telegraph to Warsaw for a locksmith in Goslawski's place."

About ten o'clock Adler went to the workshop to have a look at the damaged lathe. Near the machine he stepped by accident into a pool of blood and shuddered, but soon recovered himself. He carefully examined the cogwheel, to which bits of flesh and of the torn s.h.i.+rt still adhered. There were a few notches in the wheel.

"Have we got another wheel like that?" he asked the head-mechanic.

"Yes," whispered the pale German, who was sick at the sight of the blood.

"Has the doctor come?"

"Not yet."

Adler whistled through his teeth with impatience. The absence of the doctor made a very unpleasant impression on him. At last, about noon, he was informed that the doctor had arrived. The old man quickly left the house. In pa.s.sing the room where Ferdinand was still sleeping off the effects of his drinking bout, he beat a tattoo on the door with his stick, but got no answer. There was a large crowd outside Goslawski's cottage, for hardly anyone had gone to church. They all wanted to know the details of Goslawski's accident. A neighbour had taken his wife and children to her house.

All conversation was stopped when the crowd caught sight of Adler.

Only the most timid took off their caps, the others turned their heads away, and the boldest looked at him without raising their hands to their caps.

The mill-owner was struck. "What do they want of me?" he thought.

He spoke to one of the workmen, a German, and asked how the sick man was.

"They can't tell," the man answered sullenly. "They say his whole arm had to be taken off."

Adler sent someone to ask the doctor to come out to him.

"Well, how is he?" inquired the mill-owner.

"Dying," answered the doctor.

Adler was staggered, and exclaimed, raising his voice:

"What nonsense! People sometimes lose both hands or both legs and don't die of it."

"The dressing was bad; there had been enormous loss of blood. Besides, the man had been overworked."