Part 44 (1/2)
”Benefactor and neighbor,” said he, ”I have come with the salute which was due you, but also, as you must have divined, with a request which, in view of my age, you, I trust, will give ear to most kindly.”
”I will yield gladly to every proper wish which you may utter,” said Pan Serafin.
The old man began to rub his hands.
”I knew that! I knew it beforehand,” said he. ”What a thing it is to deal with a man who has real wisdom; one comes to an agreement immediately. I said to my son 'Leave that to me! the moment,' said I, 'that thou hast to do with Pan Serafin all will go well, for there is not another man, not merely so wise, but so honorable in this region.'”
”You praise me too greatly.”
”No, no, I say too little. But let us come to the question.”
”Let us.”
Old Krepetski was silent for a while, as if seeking expressions. He merely moved his jaws, so that his chin met his nose. At last he laughed joyously, put his hand on Pan Serafin's knee, and continued,--
”My benefactor, you see our goldfinch has flown from the cage.”
”I know. Because the cat frightened it.”
”Is there not pleasure in talking with such people?” cried the old man, rubbing his hands. ”Oh, that is wit! The prelate Tvorkovski would burst with envy, as G.o.d is dear to me!”
”I am listening.”
”Well, to the question, and straight from the bridge. We should like to take back that goldfinch.”
”Why should you not?”
Pan Krepetski moved his chin toward his nose once, and a second time.
He was alarmed; the affair went too easily; but he clapped his hands, and cried with feigned joyousness,--
”Well, now the affair is finished! Would to G.o.d that such men as you were born everywhere!”
”It is finished so far as I am concerned,” said Pan Serafin. ”Only there is need to ask that little bird whether she wants to go back again; besides she cannot go back to-day, for your son has so throttled her that she is barely breathing.”
”Is she sick?”
”Sick; she is lying in bed.”
”But is she not pretending?”
Pan Serafin's face grew dark in a moment.
”My gracious sir,” said he, ”let us talk seriously. Your son Martsian has acted unworthily with Panna Anulka, not in human fas.h.i.+on, and not as a n.o.ble; he has acted altogether with infamy. Before G.o.d and man you have offended grievously to give an orphan into hands such as his, and intrust her to a tyrant so shameless.”
”There is not a bit of truth in what she says,” cried the old man.
”Why not? You know not what she has said, and still you deny. It is not she who is speaking; blue lumps and marks of blows speak for her, marks which my housekeeper saw on her young body. As to Martsian, all the servants in Belchantska have seen his approaches and his cruelty, and are ready to testify when needed. In my house is Vilchopolski who is going to-day to Radom to tell the prelate Tvorkovski what has happened.”
”But you have promised to give me the girl.”