Whirlpools: A Novel of Modern Poland Part 35

interposed Swidwicki. "After all, I agree that the difference between the views of politicians favoring reconciliation and sentimental patriots and zealots in general lies in this, that from political moderation you can immediately coin money, though at times counterfeit, but from sentimental politics,--only in the future. History confirms at every stage that what one hundred, fifty, or twenty years ago appeared to be political or social insanity, to-day has entered into being. And it will be ever thus in the further course of time."

"That may be," said Gronski, "but it is only just so far as radicalism of ideas or the furies of feeling do not strike terror in a great, stupid, immediate act. For if this occurs a crime is perpetrated, and error is born which menaces the future. This happens frequently."

"And I a.s.sume that this is just what the conservatives fear," answered the journalist, "an excessively warm patriotism--and it must be admitted, often improvident and absurd in its manifestations--strikes them with terror. Formerly they feared that the peasants, who read 'The Pole' might take to their scythes. At present they have gooseflesh when some zealot breaks out with a word about the future kingdom of Poland."

"Kingdom of Poland!" said Swidwicki, snorting ironically. "I will tell you gentlemen an anecdote. A certain Russian official became insane and suffered from a mania of greatness. In reality his delusion lay in this, that he attained the highest position in heaven as well as on earth. And whom do you suppose that he imagined himself to be?"

"Well! G.o.d?"

"More."

"I confess that my imagination reels," answered Gronski.

"Ah, you see! In the meantime he invented a position still higher, for he represented himself as the 'presiding officer' of the Holy Trinity.

Understand? That there was a committee consisting of G.o.d, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost--and he was its chairman. Is not that more?"

"True, but why do you cite that anecdote?"

"As a proof that for diseased brains there are no impossibilities and that only such brains can think of a kingdom of Poland."

Gronski remained silent for a while, and then said: "Twenty millions of people are something tangible, and permit me to say that the chairmans.h.i.+p of the Holy Trinity is a greater impossibility. What do you know about the future and who can divine it? The most you can say is that in view of the present conditions the thought of creating anything like it by force, through revolution, would be a mistake, and even a crime. But our nation will be devoured only when it allows itself to be devoured. But if it does not? If through great and n.o.ble efforts it shall bring forth enlightenment, social discipline, prosperity, science, literature, art, wealth, sanitation, a quiet internal strength, then what? And who to-day can tell what shape in the future the political and social conditions will a.s.sume? Who can vouch that the systems of government of the present day may not entirely change, that they will not fall and will not be adjudged as idiotic and criminal as to-day we regard tortures? Who can divine what governments will arise in that great sea which is humanity? The man who, for instance, in the time of Cicero would have said that social economy could exist without slavery would have been deemed crazy, and, nevertheless, to-day slavery does not exist. And in our political relations something similar might take place. To-day's conditions of coercion might change into voluntary and free unions. I do not know whether it will be so, but you do not know that it will not be so. In view of this, I see the necessity of quiet and iron labor, but I do not see the necessity of the repudiation or renunciation of any ideals--and I will tell you too that the Pole who does not bear that great ideal, at the bottom of his soul, is in a measure a renegade; and I do not understand why he does not renounce everything."

"Write that in verse and in Latin," answered Swidwicki with impatience, "for in that manner you will upset the heads of a less number of men."

"Then our present day antagonists may themselves say to us: 'Arrange matters to suit yourselves.' At the present moment it may seem a nave fancy, but the future carries in its bosom such surprises, as not only the shortsighted politicians have not dreamed of, but even philosophers who can look ahead."

After which, having evidently sufficient of this discussion, he added:

"But enough of this. I suspend the argument and pause. To-day we must occupy ourselves not with politics, but with the young lady whose birthday we celebrate and whom undoubtedly such things weary."

Saying this, he turned to Marynia, standing at Miss Anney's side, but she, shaking her little head, replied at once with great ardor:

"On the contrary! I am of the same opinion as Pan Gronski."

And she blushed to her ears, for all began to laugh, while Swidwicki replied:

"If that is so, then everything is settled."

Ladislaus smiled at Marynia's embarra.s.sment, though in truth he did not know what it all was about, as his whole soul surged in his enamoured eyes, gazing at Miss Anney. She stood between two chairs, calm, smiling, white in her light dress, cheery as the summer dawn, and only after the close of the discussion rosier than usual, and he plainly devoured her with his gaze. His thoughts and heart raged within him. He looked at her radiant countenance, on her bare arms, chiseled as if out of warm marble, at her developed strong breast, on the sinuous pliant lines of her figure, on her knees turned towards him and outlined under her light dress, and he was seized by a whirlwind of desires, which struggled with the feeling of wors.h.i.+p and respect which he entertained for this maiden, pure as a tear. His pulse commenced to beat strangely and on his forehead appeared a braid of veins. At the thought that she was to be his wife and that all these treasures would be his, he was enveloped by a fire of blood, and at the same time by some kind of debility so great that at times he was uncertain whether he would be able to lift the chair. At the same time he quarrelled with himself. He became indignant from his whole soul at that "animal" which he could not subdue within himself, and upbraided himself to the last words because he did not love her--"that angel"--as he should love her, that is with the love which only kneels and idolizes. So, in thought, he fell on his knees before his loved one, embraced her limbs, and implored forgiveness, but when he imagined that his lips kissed her feet, again l.u.s.t seized him by the hair. And in this struggle he felt not only unworthy of her, not only "a beast," but at the same time a half-baked and ludicrous blunderer, deprived of that reason, peace, and self-control which a true man should possess.

He was also possessed by astonishment that everything which could promise delight should also at the same time torment him. Fortunately, his further torments and meditations were interrupted by music, with which an evening at Pani Otocka's had to conclude. Bochener sat at the piano, the irascible notary began to blow in his flute, and Marynia stood aside with the violin, and if those present were not accustomed to the sight of her, they would have been astonished at the change which took place in her. The beautiful but childish face of a delighted and inquisitive girl a.s.sumed in a single moment an expression of gravity and profound calm. Her eyes became thoughtful and sad. On the red background of the salon her slim form appeared like a design of the best style on a painted church window. There was something in her plainly hieratic.

A trio began. The gentle tones began to rock Ladislaus' agitated soul.

His senses gradually fell asleep and his desires were extinguished. His love metamorphosed into a great winged angel who carried his loved one in his arms as if a child, and soared with her in the immeasurable s.p.a.ce before an altar composed of the l.u.s.tre of the evening twilight and the nocturnal lights of stars.

The hour was late, when Gronski, Swidwicki, and Ladislaus left Pani Otocka's. On the streets they met few pedestrians, but every few paces, they encountered the military and police patrol, which stopped them and asked for pa.s.sports. This time Swidwicki did not pretend to be intoxicated, for he fell into a bad humor just because at Pani Otocka's he had to content himself with two gla.s.ses of wine. So, showing the policeman the pa.s.sport, he pointed to his dress-suit and white cravat and asked them surlily whether socialists or bandits dressed in that manner.

"If only lightning would smite the one and the other," he said, striking the sidewalk with his cane. "In addition, everything is closed, not only the restaurants in the hotels, but even the pharmacies, in which in an extreme case, vin de coca or alcohol can be procured. The pharmacies are striking! We have lived to see that! The doctors also ought to strike and then the grave-diggers will unwillingly have to strike also. May the devil seize all! At home I have not a single bottle; so throughout the entire night I will not be able to sleep a wink and to-morrow I will be as if taken off the cross--"

"Come with us," said Gronski, "perhaps we may find a bottle of something and black coffee."

"You have saved not only my life but that of my 'a.s.sociate,' especially if two bottles are found."

"We will seek. But what kind of a.s.sociate are you speaking of?"

"True, you yet know nothing. I will relate it over a gla.s.s."

It was not far to Gronski's residence, so soon they were seated around a table on which was found a bottle of n.o.ble Chambertin and a coffee-percolator with black coffee, steaming in a delicious manner.

Swidwicki regained his spirits.

"Those ladies," he said, "are real angels, and for the reason that it is there, as if in Paradise, where happiness consists in gazing upon eternal brightness and listening to the archangel choir."

Here he addressed Krzycki:

"I observed that this suffices for you and Gronski--but for me it is absolutely too little."

"Only do not begin to sharpen your tongue on those ladies," replied Gronski, "for I shall order the bottle removed instanter."

Swidwicki hugged it with both hands.

"I idolize--all three," he exclaimed with comic precipitancy.

"Of what kind of a.s.sociate were you speaking?"

Swidwicki swallowed the wine and, closing his eyes, for a while appraised its value.

"I have with me from this morning some kind of gallows-bird, for whom the police are looking and, if they find him with me, they will probably hang us both."

"You, however, have given him shelter?"

"I gave him shelter because he was brought by one whom I could not refuse."

"I will wager that it was some woman."

"That is true. I can add that she is comely and one of those who excite in me a responsive electric current. But I cannot tell you her name, as she begged me to keep that secret."

"I do not ask," said Gronski, "but as to the current I have no doubt, as otherwise you would fear to place yourself in jeopardy."

To this Swidwicki said:

"Know this, that I do not fear anything in the world, and this gives me in this enslaved country such an unheard of independence as is not enjoyed by any one else."

Saying this, he drained the gla.s.s to the bottom and exclaimed:

"Long live liberty--but only my own."

"Nevertheless, all this demonstrates that you have a little good in your heart."